


Learning Curve

by ishiryoku



Series: Variations on a Theme [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Abandonment Issues, Anxiety, BAMF Haruno Sakura, Character Development, Depression, Dissociation, Everyone Has Issues, Friendship, Fuuinjutsu Master Uzumaki Naruto, Haruno Sakura-centric, Hatake Kakashi is a Good Teacher, Hatake Kakashi is a proud dad, Mokuton User Haruno Sakura, Ninjutsu Master Uchiha Sasuke, Other, POV Haruno Sakura, PTSD, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Esteem Issues, Series Rewrite, Slow Burn, Strong Haruno Sakura, Team as Family, The Kids Are Gonna Be Okay, friendship before romance, the authour's intentions are important except for when i don't like them, the girl's got some trauma HAROLD, this is straight up 'Schrodinger’s Authour'
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-11
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2019-06-30 06:34:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 57,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15746250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ishiryoku/pseuds/ishiryoku
Summary: This is the life she chose: the path of the shinobi. It's either roll with the punches or be left behind by her team—and Sakura's not about to let them go off on their own.





	1. i woke up from the same dream

**March 30** **th 996** **— Wave Country**

Sakura’s never stood in front of a grave before.

Actually, if she’s being honest, it doesn’t really feel like she’s standing in front of one _now_. She feels strangely disconnected from everything around her, like she’s somewhere far away, drifting listlessly in the dark and murky sky overhead; it feels as if she’s connected to her physical body by nothing more than a thread, the only thing keeping her from floating away and never coming back. Sakura can’t feel her face. She can’t feel the late March chill clinging to her skin or focus on the way her breath fogs as it leaves her lips. In fact, she can’t feel much of _anything_ —she thinks she hears Naruto saying something, or maybe it’s Sasuke-kun or Kakashi-sensei… she’s not entirely sure, really. It’s all so strangely muffled, like when Sakura curls up with her head under the water of her bathtub to ignore her nagging mother.

This is different, though, because this doesn’t feel like the warm comforting water at home. She feels like she’s sinking in the cold, foreign water of Wave Country, somewhere deep and dark and so very far away from her soft sheets and father’s tired laughter bouncing off the walls. Right now, Sakura couldn’t feel any farther from the sunny, glorious daydream she’d convinced herself life as a Konoha shinobi was going to be.

Sakura had convinced herself that becoming a shinobi like Ino would be _easy_ —in fact, the only reason Sakura, a civilian girl with civilian parents and hardly any chakra to speak of, had joined the Shinobi Academy was because of how she’d idolised her best friend. Sakura had wanted to become as strong and vibrant and amazing as the bright-eyed, blonde-haired heiress to one of Konoha’s Great Clans, and how better to close the gap between them than to join the same position? She’d hoped to be on Ino’s team, to stay by her side forever and protect her and thank her every single day for helping build up Sakura’s pitiful self-esteem… and yet, once Sakura had finally stepped onto that path she’d been so determined to follow, that friendship she’d treasured so dearly had crumbled into dust in the face of an ultimately petty rival over a boy.

After all, that’s what Uchiha Sasuke is—a _boy_ , nothing more than a boy that they’d set up on a pedestal and claimed to love with their hearts and souls. Sakura had determined she would grow up to marry him, that she would become the new matriarch of the Uchiha Clan and restore it to its fullest after winning Sasuke’s undying devotion once they’d graduated the Academy… and yet, in this moment in which she’s so detached from herself that she can barely recall the faces of Zabuza or Haku, Sakura can’t help but ask herself question after question.

Just what did she love about Sasuke-kun?

When did this love start?

Does she even really know what love _is_?

The Sakura of yesterday, or even of earlier today, would have claimed she loved his dark eyes or his cool attitude or how he was top of their class. She would have claimed it was love at first sight, that she’d fallen head over heels for him after one single glance, and that she’d felt the red string of fate around her pinky coil wrap around her heart like a noose and begin to tug towards him, linking them together forever as decreed by destiny. She would have said that _of course_ she was in love with him, that she was an expert on love—that this was the real deal, a true fairy tale romance.

Now, though, those rose-tinted glasses have been ripped from her eyes and hurled into the uncaring abyss that Sakura finds herself standing just on the edge of. The Sakura of today who’s suddenly seeing the word in startling, vivid clarity cannot answer those questions with that sort of conviction. Turning tear-dark eyes to where Sasuke-kun is standing, she finds no miraculous answers or dramatic music. His eyes do not meet hers, he does not comfort her with his strong gaze or a warm smile.

He doesn’t even _look_ at her, and Sakura wonders when she’d deluded herself into thinking he would.

Sakura’s face is numb and she can’t feel her fingers enough to even grip the tattered material of her favourite red training dress, and eventually she turns her gaze away from him and back to the makeshift graves in front of them. Staring at his profile hadn’t made her feel any better—it hadn’t filled her with conviction that it’s true love, that everything is okay.

_Nothing_ feels okay.

Is this what being a shinobi is really like? This death and destruction, the fear… for herself, for her comrades, her teacher, her client? Was this all part of the career she’d so blindly and childishly rushed into? Part of her is furious that she’s shocked, that she’s standing here in genuine shock over her first brush with the casualties of this job. Of _course_ it’s dangerous! Iruka-sensei had told them all the time, had warned them, had stressed how this was not a glory-chasing career and that the real world had no safety nets. Their special instructor for kunoichi classes had made it very clear the dangers Sakura could face as a woman, as a kunoichi, and the kinds of missions she could be asked to eventually take on…

So why on _earth_ is she so surprised? Why is she so shocked that their enemy is dead? Why can’t she stop playing the image of their bodies on a loop? Why can’t she stop seeing Sasuke-kun bleeding beneath her trembling hands again and again and again and _again—_

A warm weight settles on Sakura’s shoulder and effectively pulls her head from the thoughts she’d been drowning in moments before. Looking up in shock, Sakura stares at Kakashi-sensei in completely bewildered silence. She doesn’t know what time it is, doesn’t know how long she’s been staring at these two graves with hollow eyes and a heavy heart, but the hesitant gentleness of her sensei’s gesture is like a solid anchor to cling to in the maelstrom of confusion and grief and anxiety that’s whirling around and around her skull.

Kakashi-sensei’s lone eye stares back at her, and she wonders if she’s imagining the way it’s not quite the flat black colour she’d believed before. Can grey _be_ warm and soft? What a silly question, so trivial in the wake of the day their team has had, and yet it’s the more foremost question on Sakura’s mind in that moment. His eye closes after a moment, crinkling at the edges in a smile that is only _his_ , and Sakura feels something sharp and painful shift deep within her chest, a realisation that fractures pieces of her like tectonic plates moving, bruising, colliding within her heart. She feels raw, exposed in the face of this undeniable truth, and so very young in that moment as she reaches up and clings to his fingers with her own as if the moment she lets go he’ll leave her there—and he _should_.

Because all she’d done was watch.

All Sakura had been able to do when faced with Zabuza and Haku was watch as her comrades threw themselves into battle, and if they’d needed her at any point in that battle, she wouldn’t have been able to do anything for them. If the tides had shifted into their opponents’ favour and they’d died—and Sasuke-kun almost did, she remembers the helplessness and the fear and the heartache as if he were still bleeding beneath her—all Sakura could have done was watch as they died, standing in front of Tazuna with a kunai and fear-locked muscles. She would have been powerless to stop it.

Unable to look away from Kakashi-sensei after this realisation and wishing he’d stop with that understanding smile of his, Sakura realises that she could have lost him. She could have lost _all_ of them. Her entire team could have been killed and she wouldn’t have been able to save them. Shame twists painfully in her gut and Sakura tears her eyes away from her sensei’s face, her hand dropping back to her side as if he’d burned her.

_Shinobi who don’t follow the rules are trash, but shinobi who abandon their comrades are_ **_worse_ ** _than trash._

By just standing by and watching the fight, by being unable to properly support her teammates or watch their backs for them, she was effectively abandoning her team. Sakura isn’t just trash—she’s _worse_ , the very kind of shinobi that Kakashi-sensei hates.

That chilling realisation stays with her even as Kakashi-sensei turns her—his hand still on her shoulder and guiding her way—heavy as a stone in her gut that steadily pulls her down to the bottom of the frigid river they’d spent so long battling over. Down, down, _down…_ surrounded by nothing but her own failure and the choking sense that she’d weigh them down or be left behind.

* * *

 

**March 31** **st **996**** **— Wave Country**

Having been unable to stay asleep the night before, Sakura finds herself rising from bed before the sun’s first rays have managed to peek over the horizon. She’s not even sure if the boys are actually asleep or not as she creeps out the door and down the little hallway, but Sakura doesn’t stop to let one of them know where she’s going if they are awake. The threat is gone, right?

_(It’s not gone from beneath her skin, from her dreams where she sees Zabuza in the mist and her comrades are dead and it’s only her left—)_

Cupping her hands and using her breath to warm her fingers, Sakura steps out into the morning-chill with a shaking heart and a determination to at least do _something_. Yesterday had been hard for her, had completely destroyed any self-worth she’d built up in her time with Ino, and had completely shifted her world, dangerously tipping its axis. Everything Sakura had known and believed has been challenged by this mission, has been dragged into the spotlight and scrutinised until she’d felt like a doll pulled apart at the joints, broken and left on the floor and waiting for someone else to pick up the pieces.

She’d never dealt with death before and she’s still not sure how to deal with it. Sure, they were her enemies and it was her job to dispose of them, but… how is she supposed to actually _cope_ with the knowledge that two lives have ended because of her team? She didn’t lay a single finger on either of them and they’d attacked her teammates first, but logic can’t seem to wash away the guilt clinging to her like the ghosts of the two Mist shinobi buried in a shallow grave far from here. Instead, it settles like a heavy cloak on her shoulders and Sakura’s left grasping at straws as to how on earth she can get rid of this crushing weight before it pushes her so far down that she can never resurface again.

Sakura finally moves away from in front of the front door and moves around the house, eyes staring unseeingly into the thick fog that encircles Tazuna’s house. She doesn’t feel _safe_ , paranoia creeping up her spine and along her limbs, but Sakura continues telling herself the threat is gone. Zabuza is gone. Haku is gone. Gatō is gone. There’s nothing to be afraid of, not even the looming threat of her teammates’ deaths because of her incompetence, because of her fear.

The chill of the morning air bites into her so sharply that she remembers the apple she’d snacked on before they’d left on this mission—it had been such a crisp sound, her teeth cutting into the apple. _(Would she sound like that if the air had teeth?)_ Shaking her head and trying to focus, to pull on that string that’s keeping her tethered to her body, Sakura lets out a heavy breath that leaves her ribs rattling and her fingers trembling. She has to focus on something, anything, so that she can try to salvage what’s left, of what still makes sense, and try to become something more than the dead weight of Team Seven.

Dropping into a simple seiza, Sakura closes her eyes and wills the world around her to fade away, focusing inward on a single point, a memory to help clear her mind of the seemingly ever-present hurricane of yesterday’s events. She recalls the day with absolutely _perfect_ clarity: Iruka-sensei had been sitting just as she was outside the Academy, all of her class copying his stance and watching him closely. The sun had been shining, warm on her cheeks and the backs of her hands. She remembers the sound of Iruka-sensei’s voice even as her head had turned to stare at Sasuke-kun’s face, her attention evenly divided in a way that she’d perfected in her years of being friends with Ino and learning from her.

It’s as if Iruka-sensei is there _with_ her, instructing her—as if yesterday never happened and she’s still in the warmth of Konoha, not the brisk cold of Wave. She does as she remembers him instructing, steadily easing herself so far inward that even his own voice in her memory begins to fade away, until she’s standing in the endless dark of her own mind. Her surroundings are empty and endless, but instead of focusing on that or allowing her mind to wander into the newly discovered depths of grief and confusion, Sakura pictures in her mind’s eye her own chakra.

Her method of meditation had always been rather unorthodox, according to Iruka-sensei, but it’s never failed her before. He had explained to her once that it’s much more difficult and strenuous on her system, as she’s forcing it further outward and then inward again rather than pushing it from her center, but for Sakura it’s just much easier to imagine. Instead of imagining her chakra within herself, Sakura instead pictures her chakra as a pool of green water by her feet. It’s a mere puddle, not nearly as big as she’s sure Sasuke-kun or Naruto’s would be, but it’s hers and she can work with this.

_(She doesn’t focus on how this puddle was like the puddle they’d ignored coming into Wave, not at all—)_

She imagines dipping her hands inside the shallow puddle in front of her on the ground, fingers splayed in the chill of her chakra, drifting through it as if it were water and allowing it to coat her fingertips. In her mind’s eye, Sakura pulls it up across her forearms, directing her chakra to follow the well-memorised lines of her coil map. It surges along the veins of her network and pulses inward towards her chest… not that her chakra actually makes it that far; she’s entirely tapped by the time it hits her elbows and knees—which is rather _discouraging_ , she realises, as she remembers how long and hard Sasuke-kun and Naruto could fight and use chakra.

She doesn’t allow herself to focus on this particular shortcoming, though… instead, Sakura focuses on her meager chakra reserves and directing them back down her limbs again, back into the puddle she imagines at her feet. Then, once it’s all back in place and twinkling back up at her with a tell-tale glow, Sakura steels herself and repeats the process once more. Up and down, over and over, stretching and pulling until her muscles as screaming and her chakra is flickering and—

Sakura’s eyes snap open with a startled gasp, her body lurching backward with the force of her coming back into herself; her back drops against the still-damp grass with a dull thud, her chest heaving with laboured breath as she stares at the still overcast sky overhead. She stays like that for a while, catching her breath, trying not to focus on how uncomfortable she feels to be soaked in sweat in the still-early morning chill. Her dress is clinging to her and she frowns, lifting a hand with so much effort that her fingers tremble to brush a stubbornly-clinging piece of hair from her face before she pulls herself into a sitting position. Her entire body is _screaming_ at her in protest, and belatedly Sakura fumbles to remember Iruka-sensei’s lectures on over-taxing during chakra meditation.

_Pushing yourself so hard you black out won’t help you in the long run,_ she remembers Iruka-sensei warning the class. _If you want to improve your chakra reserves and improve your replenishment time, you have to be patient and ease your coils into it. It’s like exercise—push too hard and you’ll only hurt yourself instead._

“Well…” Sakura murmurs to herself after a long moment, voice hoarse and lungs adamantly protesting she speak any louder than a whisper. Her muscles are trembling, fingers spasming as she clutches at the grass, her legs quaking so hard that she wonders if she’ll ever be able to stand again. “At least I didn’t black out…?”

“Mah, there is _that_.”

Sakura’s head snaps up at the sound of Kakashi-sensei’s voice and squeaks in pain, the muscles in her neck pulling back in a violent protest that leaves her on the brink of tears. She’s not sure whether she’s actually all that surprised to see him checking in on her or not—after all, she’s coming to the conclusion that Kakashi-sensei just seems to have a weird sort of sixth sense in regards to his students—but she finds herself grateful for his presence. That feeling of being watched, the irrational fear that somehow someone will come and get her for her failure, will finish what Zabuza or Haku should have… Kakashi-sensei being around makes it fade away, just a little.

Something about his gaze feels off, though, and Sakura can’t help but furrow her brow at him. The way he’s staring down at her is almost careful, like how Sasuke-kun had looked down at that demon of a cat, Tora, when she’d been yowling and backed into a corner. Is she in trouble for coming out so early without telling anyone where she was going? She supposes that could be possible.

Swallowing thickly, Sakura drops her gaze and waits for him to rebuke her, to scold her… _anything_ , really, anything at all—but after a few excruciating seconds of silence, Kakashi-sensei simply closes his eye in that strange smile of his and squats down to her level, reaching out to ruffle her hair.

For once, it doesn’t annoy her.

* * *

 

**April 6** **th **996**** **— Konohagakure**

Haruno Sakura had left Konohagakure a twelve-year-old girl with love-struck eyes and a thick shell of naïveté that protected her from the harsh realities of her chosen profession. She’d been wearing her favourite red dress and spandex shorts, had brushed her hair until it shone and put on light makeup with her favourite cherry-flavoured lip gloss, and she had made sure to wear a brilliantly wide, toothy smile for the boy she dreamed of one day marrying. The most pressing concerns of that Haruno Sakura’s life had been focused on keeping Ino-pig from getting close to her Sasuke-kun, her annoyingly late sensei that didn’t seem all that invested in teaching them a single thing, and dealing with her absolute plague of a teammate, Uzumaki Naruto.

Haruno Sakura returned to Konohagakure a thirteen-year-old girl with dark circles under her eyes, their vibrant green having dulled considerably by loss, guilt, and fear; once vivid and full of big, girlish dreams, her eyes now properly reflected one who understood the very real threat of the title shinobi. She’d finally witnessed the brutal reality of the path she’d run down without looking back: being a shinobi wasn’t just a game of dress-up, and if she wasn’t careful, if she didn’t make sure to pull her own weight from now on, her teammates could very well _die_. She was wearing her favourite red dress, caked in mud and several patches of Sasuke-kun’s blood, her hair falling in matted tangles down her back that she’d given up pushing away from her eyes, and not a single smudge of the makeup she’d been so preoccupied with before remained on her face. Now, the only thing that seemed to be looming on her mind was one simple yet terrifying conclusion:

If she didn’t start training _now_ , she would become the very trash her sensei had warned her about.

It’s with this train of thought circling her mind on a constant repeat, whispering in her ear again and again and again in a voice that sounded so much like Kakashi-sensei’s that it startled her, that Sakura finds herself standing before the Hokage’s desk. Everything feels hazy, _disconnected_ just like before—if she tries, she can replace Hokage-sama and his desk with the graves that she hasn’t stopped seeing when her eyes close—and Sakura’s own voice sounds muffled to her. She’s back underwater again, far away from the memories and the fear and the self-loathing Hokage-sama is having her relive for him. Her body may obey, her mouth mechanically delivering the mission report as is her duty, but her mind is somewhere so very far away from here, away from them.

She doesn’t notice Naruto looking at her or the sympathetic stare of Hokage-sama, nor does she even feel Kakashi-sensei’s hand on her hair all the way back to her house. Her body just _moves_ , a hollow shell that Kakashi-sensei dutifully escorts to her home, her legs taking her up the stairs to her room on muscle memory alone. She doesn’t hear what her sensei says, she doesn’t hear her parents’ responses, doesn’t say goodbye or goodnight or acknowledge when her parents try to knock on her door.

Her body just drops face-first into the familiar softness of her pillows, but even that doesn’t bring Sakura back to her body. She’s still floating high in the darkened skies of Konohagakure, tied to her string and hovering over her body so very far below, so very far away from the memories, from the emotions, from the constant string of thoughts and insecurities and fears. Up here, away from herself, Sakura can’t focus on the way her mind tries to play tricks on her, on the way her mind swears that she hears the rustling of leaves and the sloshing of puddles outside and the whispered song of a blade being drawn by her ear.

The first time Sakura snaps awake and back to herself, Sakura doesn’t know where she is or what day it is or if she’s even safe. Something in her, some cowardly piece of her, chokes down any sound she might make in the hopes of not being discovered, her mind whirling in a chaotic mess of terror, confusion, and still-lingering grief. _(Does it ever go away?)_ She doesn’t scream, she doesn’t even whimper; instead, Sakura just stays rooted to the spot, curled in what she now recognising where she is, that she’s home in her bed and she’s safe, she’s okay. It was only a _dream_ , nothing more than her brain replaying a memory of Zabuza flying at her sensei faster than her untrained eyes could follow thrumming along the walls of her skull to the frantic beating of her heart. Haku. Senbon. Sasuke-kun bleeding on the ground. Kakashi-sensei’s blood. Blood mixing with the water, so much water—she can’t _breathe—_

The second time she snaps awake and feels like she’s choking, drowning like she was in her dream as Zabuza holds her head under the frigid water of the river. As Haku holds her head under. Gatō. Faceless strangers. Once it is even Kakashi-sensei holding her head under, his words rattling in her mind like the sound of dirt thudding on the roof of a coffin. _Those who break the rules are trash, but those who abandon their comrades are worse than trash._ Sakura knows it’s a nightmare. Knows Kakashi-sensei would never. Kakashi-sensei protected her, protected all of them—he won’t let his team die, he won’t, he’d never hurt her…

Sakura showers after each nightmare but she can’t scrub it away, can’t wash away the fear, the worthlessness, the despair. She feels helpless as she stands under the water, scalding hot but still so cold, and it’s choking, _choking—_

Sakura doesn’t like taking long showers any more.

* * *

 

**April 9** **th **996**** **— Konohagakure**

It takes three days for Sakura to seek Ino out.

She wanders around Konoha for nearly an hour, unwilling to ask anyone if they’d seen her but also unwilling to give up. She could just go to the flower shop, could ask Ino’s parents if she’s out on a mission or if she’s too busy to help Sakura understand herself again, like she did when they were kids. It takes her two hours to find the blonde that had irreversibly changed Sakura’s life, but the moment she lays eyes on her former best friend, Sakura finds herself unable to actually approach her.

Ino’s laughing about something and obviously telling one of her wild tales, teasing one of the boys on her team at the dango stand she used to take Sakura to. Sakura can tell by the wild swing of her arms and the way Ino’s tossing her head back and forth that it’s a story about her dad—especially with the way Ino throws her arms wide and then rolls her eyes, because Ino only ever does that when she thinks her father's being over-protective or embarrassing. The boy she’s regaling with her story has dark hair pulled up into a spiky ponytail, and for a moment Sakura fixates on him. She should know his name, should remember him, but she’s still so disconnected from herself. She can’t _remember_.

Why is she so focused on her best friend’s teammates? She doesn’t need either of them and she needs to focus. She can’t disconnect again, not right now. There’s so much to do, so much she has to work on, she can’t keep falling behind. She needs Ino, needs to talk to her, to ask her for help and cry and just tell someone what she went through, beg Ino to tell her what to _do—_

But Ino is smiling, just as carefree as she had been when they were friends, and Sakura turns away.

Sakura wanders for yet another hour, struggling to remain fully present as her eyes trail over the signs of various shops, over the faces of people she passes by. She can’t keep hiding away within herself every time someone’s headband glints in the sunlight, every time someone stares at her for more than a single heartbeat… but she can’t really help it.

The paranoia creeps up her spine every time someone’s eyes pause on her for even a fraction of a second, numerous improbable fears clogging her lungs and rotting her from the inside out and sending her heart hammering in her chest. Do they _see_ it? Do they see how completely worthless she feels in the wake of everything that happened? Do they know that she hadn’t been someone Kakashi-sensei could genuinely count on? Do they know she insulted Naruto, belittled all the progress she’s seen him make, disrespected Kakashi-sensei, constantly encroached on Sasuke’s personal space, and never took any of her sensei’s teaching seriously? Are they judging her as a failure of a kunoichi, mocking her for ever signing up for the Academy in the first?

Has she disappointed Konohagakure? As a shinobi of her village, wasn’t that the worst thing she could do? She’s not only let her team down, but her entire village, her Hokage, _everyone_.

Finally, Sakura slips into the first door she sees, the weight of her own paranoid thoughts becoming too much to handle, and hides within the building’s walls, breathing heavily and resisting the urge to curl up and cry, or to just let go of that string that’s keeping her tethered to her body and fly away again. No. No, she has to _focus_. Sakura looks up at her surroundings for the first time, surprised to find herself in the library, completely surrounded by walls of books.

The thing is, Sakura learned very early on in life that books don’t judge you. They won’t _hurt_ you. Even better than that, though… is that books can answer questions. Sakura’s good with books, had practically lived in them before she’d met Ino. As a civilian, her access had been severely limited, restricting her to romances and fairy-tales and dictionaries at best… but as a genin? Sakura had never even thought of coming to see what sort of scrolls would be available to a genin, what she might be able to learn from a place like this.

Distractedly reciting her identification number to the chūnin manning the desk, Sakura realises that for the first time in days she actually, _genuinely_ feels safe. This was it. This was her finally taking her first step.

* * *

 

**April 10** **th **996**** **— Konohagakure**

It’s their first day of training since their return from Wave, and Sakura had spent the entire morning worrying over what would happen. Would her team be angry at her? Would they blame her nearly as much as she blames herself? Would Naruto throw every awful, mocking thing she’d ever said about him back in her face? Would Sasuke tell her she didn’t deserve to be on his team? Would Kakashi-sensei revoke her status as a genin of Konohagakure?

All of her worrying was for nothing, just a byproduct of her now incredibly self-critical and overreactive imagination… and yet, the actual product of their mission to wave felt so much worse than what she’d spent so long imagining.

Sasuke and Naruto had apparently arrived well before her, each of them on either side of the bridge that Team Seven had long-since claimed as their own, their backs to one another as they stare out into the distance. Sasuke, leaning with his arms crossed on the railing and Naruto, sitting with his legs dangling over the edge, one hand absentmindedly gripping the rail as if he were inside a jail cell looking out. They can’t be more than four feet apart from one another, and yet the distance seems so _massive_ that Sakura’s afraid she’d tumble off into a great chasm if she tried to breach it.

How will they ever work together as a team? Do the boys see that wide, aching canyon between the three of them, or is it only there for her? She remembers how well they’d fought against Zabuza, how they’d worked like a well-oiled machine, and a sharp twist of the knife in her chest tells her that no, the boys don’t see it. They won’t.

They aren’t far from one another… they’re only out of _her_ reach.

Sakura doesn't stand on the bridge with them—she can’t, she doesn’t deserve to, they can’t count on her—instead, she stands on the dirt just before the bridge, silently staring at them with a heavy feeling she can't quite describe. No one speaks a single word as the three of them wait for Kakashi-sensei to arrive.

* * *

 

**April 13** **th **996**** **— Konohagakure**

Sakura is sitting at the library for the third day in a row, table covered in various scrolls, an organised mess that she knows inside and out despite how it may look to an outsider. Sakura doesn’t look up whatsoever from her work as she scrawls note after note, memorising the instructions, the methodology, and even the theory of the techniques contained in as many scrolls as she could feasibly have out on this table. She reads on and on and on, meticulously recalling every seal, every indication of chakra needed, every stance—she marvels at such an insignificant strength, her only _real_ strength, and wonders why she’d never really tried like this before. Sure, Naruto may have so much chakra that he can hit the wall enough times to just punch on through, and Sasuke-kun may be a prodigy with the benefit of a kekkei genkai to launch him even further ahead, but Sakura can run with them with the right amount of focus.

She doesn’t have to stand by and just watch.

If she can stay focused, and keep her head from drifting off and away into that far-away place of faux safety, Sakura _knows_ she can do this. She can close the gap. She can catch up to them, can watch their backs properly, and she knows that she’ll be able to become competent enough that they won’t feel the need to glance over their shoulder to make sure she can actually protect their backs while they protect hers. With the right amount of determination, Sakura knows that she can have enough strength to not be a liability to them, but to at least be an asset.

She can be someone they trust.

She remembers the day Kakashi-sensei had taught them how to walk up the trees and grimaces, recalling how she’d stopped on the first branch without even attempting to go any higher. She hadn’t striven to explore her own limits, to push herself—and with that absolutely mortifying realisation, Sakura cannot blame Kakashi-sensei for seeming to take no real notice of her in regards to training. After all: after realising that she’d had an innate strength, that she had a quality both her teammates lacked, Sakura had chosen to sit and watch instead of pushing on and actually _doing_ something with it. She didn’t push and pull like Sasuke-kun and Naruto did. She didn’t _try_.

After she’s taken a sizable amount of research with her, Sakura goes to their training ground. It’s empty for the afternoon, since her team has taken the rest of the day off after a particularly startling incident involving Naruto’s pants and a misplaced katon, and after a few hours spent reading more and more, Sakura’s decided that today is the day she starts trying to put her money where her mouth is. She has all the information, all the tools… now, she just has to actually _do_ something with them.

She’s seen her Academy profile—all students are allowed to after they pass as genin, as a means of gaining self-improvement from any criticism one’s sensei may have to offer—and she knows that Iruka-sensei had notated her as someone with above-average intelligence and focus, having labeled her eidetic memory from very early on in her Academy career. _(He’d clarified eidetic, not photographic, and Sakura had spent hours reading into the differences and what that necessarily meant for her yesterday.)_ He’d also made note that she is what’s called a “genjutsu-type,” having very boldly written out that her chakra control is undoubtedly within the top two percent, with the capability to be labeled as perfect with proper practise, and he'd scribbled a suggestion that she look into genjutsu or the medical fields as a result.

For all that praise, however, there was plenty of red ink for her to look over. Distracted. Lacks motivation. He’d noted that she never made to perfect a technique he’d taught; instead, Sakura always simply learned to use them to the barest minimum in order to pass, having never made any kind of strides forward to actually ensure she’d have the skills to survive on the path of a shinobi. Iruka-sensei showed concern for her lack of any specialisations, having even scribbled notes about what team to place her on to help her flourish if at all. It had stung to see that he’d passed her without confidence that she could actually do it, but she understood that he’d done so because she did meet the requirements—she just found herself wishing Iruka-sensei had said something back then.

She wishes she would have listened if he _had_.

Laying out her notes on the cooling grass, Sakura sighs and begins with the basics: her stretches. She’d walked by several training grounds on her way here, peeking at teams that were still training, at shinobi simply getting in what time they could, getting ideas that simply reading on scrolls or seeing in diagrams couldn’t tell her. Everything she’d read stressed the need for stretching before any kind of training, as had Iruka-sensei back in the Academy, and Sakura realises with no small amount of embarrassment that she’d just never bothered to try and stretch before… well, _anything_. She incorporates a few different methods with the standard Academy-taught ones, trying to hold them out as long as she guesses is appropriate, wondering if she should ask Kakashi-sensei to teach her how to properly stretch before anything else.

Peering at her papers, at the poses she’d both written and drawn out for one of the first katas she’d decided to try to learn, Sakura hums and wonders if this is perhaps _too_ basic. She’s a genin, after all, not a new student—but all the books had stressed that one should strengthen their basics, and Sakura knows that she needs all the help she can get. So, after several moments of memorising what she’d drawn out, Sakura moves a few feet away and allows her eyes to fall closed, the memory of her hands drawing out those poses playing against her eyelids as if on repeat, and Sakura breathes a silent prayer of gratitude for her eidetic memory once again. She slides uneasily into the first stance of Sanchin, breathing out through her nose and centering herself.

It’s awkward at first, arms and legs trembling and her balance teetering at times. She’s not entirely sure where to put her arms, her legs, her stance too loose and then too tight, legs too far apart, arms hanging too low, fists unclenched… but over time, Sakura realises it gets easier. She repeats these motions over and over, sliding through them until she’s not hyper-focused on her mistakes and instead letting her mind wander, her body following the motions by muscle-memory. It’s relaxing, in a way, like a form of meditation that leaves Sakura feeling refreshed even as a thin sheen of sweat starts crawling across her skin.

It feels like hours go by before she opens her eyes again, dropping to sit in the middle of an empty training ground, the moon hanging overhead her only company in the chill of night.

* * *

 

**April 15** **th **996**** **— Konohagakure**

The distance is what makes her decide to bring the lunches the first time.

She doesn’t know their preferences—well, not Sasuke-kun’s or Kakashi-sensei’s, anyway, since Naruto is incredibly vocal about his love for ramen—but all the same, Sakura finds herself making four generic bentos and bringing them with her to training that day. Kakashi-sensei doesn’t say anything when she sets the bag with them down off to the side, nor does he comment about the way she slides into her stretches without him giving her any instructions. She listens to the familiar background noise of Sasuke-kun and Naruto’s bickering, a distant noise that grounds her as she closes her eyes, body moving through the familiar stances of her kata again with much steadier movements than she’d been able to use two days ago. She’s so focused on herself in that moment that she misses the way Kakashi-sensei’s lone eyebrow raises just a little at her, misses her teammates’ twin stares as she moves with relative ease, misses the speculative, if not stunned, quiet that falls over her team.

“Mah, Sakura-chan… I’m _hurt_. You’ve been seeing another sensei.” Kakashi-sensei’s playful accusation snaps her from her trance-like state and Sakura turns, somewhat startled, to look up at her sensei with a blush crawling across her cheeks and down her neck. Had she done something wrong? Sakura fumbles to apologise when she notices that his eye is relaxed and closed, in that single-eyed smile he’d given her in Wave, the smile that had comforted her and also lanced her through the heart, and it’s because of that expression that Sakura finds herself struggling to offer a small, timid smile in return.

“No, Kakashi-sensei,” Sakura clears her throat and glances away from him as a sudden wave of shyness overtakes her, hand coming up to run through her ponytail nervously, tugging the end over her shoulder to allow her fingers to fiddle with the tip of it. “I was just doing some reading—in the library, I mean—and I worked this into my training routine.”

“Oh?” Her cheeks burn at his obvious interest, a trickle of shame that he sounds genuinely surprised working its way into her heart, but what makes it worse is how Sasuke-kun and Naruto turn to fully face her now. “Have you been training without us, then?”

“I started coming here in the late afternoons after… our last mission.” She hopes her hesitation isn’t entirely obvious, hopes they don’t hear the hitch, hopes they don’t realise that Sakura hasn’t really been able to look any of them in the eye since then. She hopes they don’t realise that she doesn’t feel worthy to. She hopes they don’t already think she’s just a burden. Dead weight. _Trash_. “I’ve just been trying to find my specialisation. Yesterday I was trying to teach myself to walk on water, and—”

“Woah! Really, Sakura-chan?!” Suddenly Naruto is upon her, leaning in closer than she would usually be comfortable with, forcing her to stare into that pair of impossibly bright blue eyes. Eyes that _trusted_ her. Idolised her. Naruto doesn’t hate her… and that realisation takes such a huge weight from her shoulders that Sakura can’t help but smile blindingly back to him, nodding and finding herself suddenly as eager as he is and completely breathless with relief.

“I haven’t perfected it yet, but…”

“That’s so _cool_!” Naruto’s gushing makes her cheeks flush and Sakura has to glance away again, still smiling broadly, a sort of grateful happiness steadily whittling away at the shame that had begun taking root deep in her chest, so she misses Naruto’s accusatory glare that he throws Kakashi-sensei’s way. “Hey! Kaka-sensei, how come you haven’t been teaching us that?!”

“Mah… it’s a little more advanced than walking on trees, you know?” Kakashi-sensei sounds so tired of Naruto’s enthusiasm that Sakura actually feels a _little_ bad for unleashing this beast on him, but she still glows when he turns his gaze to her instead. “Why doesn’t Sakura-chan teach us today, boys?”

Sasuke-kun’s responding scoff lances her heart, but Sakura can’t blame him. She can’t. She let them down. She let all of them down. She wasn’t there for them to count on, she couldn’t have their back—of course he’d believe he couldn’t count on her to teach them anything when she hadn’t shown any kind of capability on a mission where he’d almost lost his life. Her gaze drops to the ground and for a moment Sakura wants to hide away, wants to run, and that string seems so very tempting… but then that reassuring warmth is on her hair again.

“Come on, get to the water, boys. Sakura-chan is going to show us how to walk on water today—it’ll be a good chakra-control exercise.”

It’s like he _knows_. Once again, Kakashi-sensei has saved her with a gentle touch, a gesture she’d forgotten him capable of that acts as an anchor to keep her mind from drifting away from her body again, and Sakura’s heart swells just a little at the kindness. He doesn’t say anything else, just smiles that one-eyed smile of his, but Sakura gives him a timid, wobbly smile in thanks and follows as Naruto tears off towards the water with a bellowed challenge towards Sasuke-kun.

They spend nearly six hours in the water, and Sakura herself only spends the last half hour on the water herself. Though initially Sasuke-kun had scoffed again at how she immediately fell into the water after giving them an explanation of having to account for the depth of the water and the movement of the surface waves, he’d been swiftly silenced by both Naruto and Kakashi-sensei, as well as his own immediate drop into the water upon trying to stand on it. He and Naruto were even _worse_ with this than they were with the trees, and after hours of watching them Sakura came to a solid conclusion to her teammates:

Naruto had the chakra and could replicate the method if shown it, but he didn’t seem to learn well by hearing long-winded explanations. Sasuke-kun seemed to better learn from her explanations, but he shared Naruto’s lack of chakra control—though his was much more refined than their blonde teammate.

It was with this in mind that she asked for a break, chewing her thumbnail with a contemplative frown and ignoring the boys’ twin stares as she marched back to where she’d left the bag with their lunches. Unwrapping them, Sakura trotted dutifully back to the lake and started with who she assumed to be the easiest of the three, handing one to Naruto and trying to ignore the self-conscious shyness that wanted to creep up her neck and strangle her. What if they didn’t want this from her? What if they weren’t really there yet? What if they still hadn’t forgiven her and this only offended them more and…

“Wh—” Was he tearing up? Sakura frowned, wondering if she really had been that awful to him, but instead of voicing that question—she’s afraid of the answer, afraid of how badly she’s let the team down—she simply beams at him and pushes it into his hands.

“I made it for you this morning, Naruto.” She pats the top of the bento gently, firmly deciding to be better to Naruto. _Kinder_. She won’t let him down ever again. “I hope you like it.”

“Sakura-chan… I—” He swallows loudly, eyes misting over, and Sakura suddenly has the urge to punch herself, to punch Sasuke-kun, to punch everyone who was ever terrible to this boy in his life. “… thank you.”

“Of course. What are friends for?” She moves on from him and decides to tackle the middle-child of problematic teammates, stepping in front of Kakashi-sensei with that timidly warn expression on her lips as she presents him his own lunch. “Here, Kakashi-sensei.”

“Mah, Sakura-chan—you didn’t have to.” But he takes it, if a bit reluctantly, and Sakura’s smile only grows. He doesn’t say thank you, but she knows he’s grateful all the same as he drops, legs crossed beside Naruto, and opens the bento with the same sort of reverence that Naruto had.

It’s just _lunch…_

Sasuke-kun doesn’t say anything and Sakura doesn’t really expect him to. She let him down. She wasn’t exactly the best teammate—regardless of her feelings for him, regardless of how much she’d wanted him to notice her, being a good teammate that he could rely on comes first. If he can’t trust her to have his back, why on earth would he trust her with his heart? Her own heart drops low, but Sakura still offers him the bento with a weak smile, fully expecting him to stare at her and walk away, to scoff again, to even slap it out of her hand. She deserves that. She let him down. She let them all down—

He takes it without a thank you, without a word, and sits a little further from the others… but he’s still closer than he had been on the bridge, and her heart feels a little lighter.

* * *

 

**April 16** **th **996**** **— Konohagakure**

She hit the bullseye.

Never mind the countless kunai and senbon littering the ground around the training dummy, because she’s _totally_ been at this all day after Kakashi-sensei was called away on a mission of his own—point is that, after hours and hours of either missing or only being able to hit the outer rings, Sakura finally managed to hit a bullseye. One out of so many isn’t entirely impressive in retrospect, but pride still shines in her eyes all the same as she drops to the ground with a triumphant laugh, back hitting the grass with a dull thud.

She’d spent the first hour or so of today’s solo training on memorising two new sets of katas and perfecting the transitioning between the three styles. Then she’d moved to target practice, something she’d been admittedly putting off for a while—after all, if there’s anything Sakura knows she’s subpar at, it’s taijutsu and bukijutsu—and it had taken her well until dark to manage to hit the target in the bullseye. That was definite, tangible progress… especially if she could improve her aim so that she’d be hitting the bullseye every time!

The unexpected bonus to this endeavour was a sort of shocking revelation. Once the sun had set and she’d continued to press on, it became harder and harder to see the target properly; however, after recalling a particular scroll that she was still in the middle of during her library session today, Sakura decided to try her hand at chakra enhancement on more than just her legs and arms. In hindsight, Sakura acknowledges that this was _incredibly_ dangerous, as she could have seriously damaged her optic nerves and possibly blinded herself since she had no real idea what she was doing outside of a few scarce medical texts she’d glanced at… but her gamble had paid off, and Sakura is still absolutely pleased with herself for this little victory.

Chakra-enhancement is now her first official “specialty,” as she’s the only member of team seven _(outside of possibly Kakashi-sensei, she’s sure he can do anything)_ that can control their chakra this seamlessly. She’s been studying all week on a few different jutsu, as well as reading up on the nuances of genjutsu, though she’s not entirely confident in her ability to learn that without assistance. Preferably from Kakashi-sensei. Sakura’s not sure she could ever trust anyone else.

_(Who would want to teach trash who just watches as their team nearly dies anyway—)_

Glancing at the opened scroll resting neglected on the grass nearby, Sakura sighs longingly at the characters dutifully noted across the page. _Doton: Shinjū Zanshu no Jutsu,_  the Earth technique that Kakashi-sensei had used against Sasuke-kun during the bell test. It has several possibilities for her position on the team, as it could be used in self-defense—trap and run—or in trap-laying, or even during combat for herding and thinning out multiple threats. She’d hoped to practice today, but as it was… well, she needs to get home, get cleaned up, suffer through those looks from her mother and father, and then meditate before she can get some sleep. Tomorrow is another shot at water-walking with the boys, after all.

_Maybe another day_ , she tells herself woefully, closing scroll with a click.

* * *

 

**April 17** **th **996**** **— Konohagakure**

“You want us to _what—_?”

“Are you deaf or dumb, dobe?”

Sakura sighs at Naruto’s indignant squawk, sharing a long-suffering look with Kakashi-sensei as the blonde hurls an insult back at Sasuke-kun and the two dissolve into a mess of an argument once again. It’s literally _all day_ with the two of them. It’s like they were born to be rivals, like they can’t go without making everything a competition, without insulting one another… it’s absolutely exhausting, and Sakura has no idea how Kakashi-sensei deals with it. She wonders how she’s never noticed it before and feels a newfound respect for their perpetually tired sensei. No wonder he takes his sweet time coming to see them every day—he’s probably putting it off as long as possible!

“I _said_ I want you to use your hands this time.” Sakura moves between the two of them, hands on her hips, glancing between the two of them as if challenging them to say something back to her. Her boys both fall silent, properly cowed and now paying attention to her either because of her tone or because of the _look_ Kakashi-sensei levels them with, and Sakura steps a little deeper into the water hoping that they’ll follow her in. Standing waist deep in the water, Sakura turns and holds up her hands, allowing chakra to coat her palm, and then she places them down on the surface. “It’s harder to do it through the soles of your feet, so try with your hands first to get used to how to regulate your flow—that way, you can eventually do it through your feet instead.”

Then, feeling more confident in herself than she has since before they’d left for that fated mission to Wave, Sakura makes a show of pulling herself up by her hands, like she’s pulling up onto a ledge, and then focuses her chakra to move through her body. To her knees so as to kneel on the water’s surface, and then to her feet so that she can stand over them and smile in what she hopes is an encouraging method. She can’t feel her face again and that string is suddenly tempting her once more, trying to pull her off at the mere reminder of that mission.

But Sakura knows she can’t just keep hiding from it—her team _needs_ her.

“You’re a genius, Sakura-chan!” Naruto crows, immediately setting out to try and do the same for her. He’s kind of cute, she decides—watching him fall face-first into the gentle waves, standing back up to try again… he was like that in the Academy, too, she realises with a jolt. Never giving up, never stopping. Why on earth did everyone treat him so poorly, again? Why had _she_?

“Hn. I see.” Sasuke-kun doesn’t fall in, though he stumbles a little. He’s tackling this new method with all the finesse of a clan-born shinobi, all smooth and refined movements and a mask of concentration. He’s such a stark contrast to Naruto… and to her.

“I believe in you guys!” She walks around them, hardly going noticed in her departure, and ambles to the shore to sit on the ground beside Kakashi-sensei, allowing her smile to drop off her face with a sigh. It’s not that she’s unhappy… it just takes so much effort to smile right now, to stay present, to not show just how hard she’s struggling right now. She hears Kakashi-sensei shift nearby and worries he may say something about it, but thankfully he seems to miraculously understand her yet again.

“Give them a method that speaks better to their learning styles…” Sakura glances to see Kakashi-sensei looking out at the boys over his books. She thinks he’s smiling, but his tone is thoughtful, and Sakura wonders how he manages to look so completely inattentive and yet so alert at the same time. “I’m impressed. You’re a good teacher, Sakura-chan. Maybe when you get promoted to jōnin you can become an instructor yourself.”

“I just remembered how they struggled with the trees, that’s all…” A less exhausting smile quirks at the corners of her lips, small and tremulous and barely even there, but she is rewarded with a eye-crinkling smile of his in return. After a long moment of just watching her teammates try and fail, Sakura takes a deep breath and lets her eyes fall closed, focusing on herself and pushing away the memory of Wave that had been flickering at the edges of her awareness from that brief moment of reflection.

She can feel Kakashi-sensei’s eyes on her for a beat longer and works to focus on mentally grabbing the string that keeps her centered, to picture the familiar viridian pool of chakra at her feet, and steels herself for the long process of increasing and stretching her chakra reserves.

“Hey, hey—” It’s Naruto’s voice that eventually drags her from her meditation after what feels like hours. When she opens her eyes, she can see Sasuke-kun watching her as well from a little ways off, probably in what he thinks is a discreet manner. She blinks up at Naruto, head tilted slightly to the side, and she follows his movements with her eyes as he drops down to squat right in front of her her, looking from her posture to her glowing hands and then back to her face again.“What’re you doing over here, Sakura-chan?”

“I’m meditating, Naruto.” She’s developed a sort of patience with Naruto that she’s heard Kakashi-sensei mutter as _“sage-like,”_ but she really doesn’t mind how inquisitive he can be—in fact, her frequent trips to the library and her growing knowledge seem to be a point of intrigue for both of her teammates, even if Sasuke-kun won’t voice his questions like Naruto does. She _likes_ Naruto treating her like this. “I have really small chakra reserves, so I meditate to expand them, kind of like a muscle. It’s the only way I’ll be able to keep up with you and Sasuke.”

_(He doesn’t hate me or blame me or—)_

“Oh.” Naruto says after a moment, managing to look thoughtful while also looking like he’d swallowed a bug. “I don’t really like meditating.”

“Of _course_ you don’t, dobe.” Sasuke-kun’s smirk immediately has Naruto up and ready for a scuffle, and Sakura can’t help the fond sigh as their old song and dance begins anew. At times like this, the memory of the distance on the bridge feels like a dream—right now, in this moment, the four of them feel like a real and proper team. “You’d probably just fall asleep.”

“Would not!”

“Would too.”

“ _Boys_ ,” Sakura whispers conspiratorially to Kakashi-sensei, who only gives her a solemn nod in return.

_(When they’re like this, it’s easy to forget.)_

She won't ever let them down again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **10/04/18:** This chapter has been fully re-written with added scenes, explanations, and hopefully some better fleshing out of the effects of Sakura's lasting trauma after Wave. Complete honesty: some of Sakura's dissociation from herself and her self-loathing, as well as her paranoia, is actually based on personal reactions I had to a similar (as similar as reality can be to ninjas with god powers, lmao) experience in my life, as I was too young to fully process what I'd seen/endured and I blamed myself entirely for a lot of things that were really just out of my control.
> 
> I really, genuinely tried to more properly convey in this rewrite that, on top of being afraid for herself, Sakura's biggest fear/regret/guilt stems from the fact that her teammates suffered, not necessarily because she experienced any of the same things Naruto, Sasuke, or Kakashi did. I hope that now this will feel more genuine, as some people said that it seemed like a severe drop and that her fear/guilt would come and go too sporadically.
> 
> The original word count of this chapter was 6,013. This revision's word count is now 8,789.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	2. falling backwards, falling backwards

**April 20th 996 — Konohagakure**

“What’d you say about me?!”

“I said you’re a dumbass, _dead last._ ”

“Guys—” It sounds more akin to a weary _sigh_ than the word she’s going for, but Sakura’s far too close to her limit to care. She’s been trying—really, she has—to work on her hair-trigger temper, to try and be calm and patient with the boys and to stop exploding every time some little thing didn’t go her way. _(It’s been doing more harm than good, like the four of them would take one step forward and then four steps back.)_ Sakura had thought she was making genuine progress, too, especially after having been elected the team student-teacher by their sensei… but sometimes the boys were just _too much._

Her voice goes entirely ignored once again and Sakura sighs, not missing the tired groan from behind her as Kakashi-sensei buries his face into his little cursed book. His expression is hidden, both by his mask and by the orange cover, but Sakura knows without a doubt that he probably looks like someone’s just gutted him and then asked him to clean up after himself. Really, his melodramatics are _infuriating!_ He’s just lying there on the grass, sprawled out like a gangly wet noodle. She’d feel bad for him, or at least sympathetic, if he’d tried at all today to be any kind of helpful with their training, but instead Kakashi-sensei had simply waved her off to teach while he sat to supervise.

Glaring daggers at their lazy excuse for a jōnin sensei, Sakura weighs the pros and cons of just dropkicking him right in the ribs for being so completely, inexcusably disinterested in helping the boys walk on water. The thin, tremulous thread of her patience is worn and fraying, but Sakura makes another valiant attempt of taking a calming breath before trying to speak up again. _Naruto_ likes her well enough, right? Maybe if she tries with him…

“Naruto, come on—”

“You wanna go!?” Naruto bellows, completely missing Sakura’s attempted intervention and sending her hopes flying to the ground with the force of a megaton punch, shattering all daydreams of a premature end to yet another shouting match.

“You’re not even a threat,” Sasuke-kun replies cooly, causing Sakura to experience a whole new kind of out-of-body experience as the fighting flares up to new heights.

This is it. _This_ is the turning point. Naruto snaps at Sasuke-kun, Sasuke-kun belittles Naruto, Naruto flies off the handle and it turns into a full on scuffle—it’s a song and dance that Sakura and Kakashi have memorised to the point that their jōnin sensei has a game of bingo featuring snippets of their most frequent insults, comebacks, and dismissals. She’s pretty sure she can even see Kakashi-sensei’s mask moving as he silently mouths the muddled mess of shouting between the two boys.

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Sakura closes her eyes and focuses on her breathing, counting backwards from ten. She doesn’t _want_ to snap. She _shouldn’t_ snap. Naruto always sulks and Sasuke-kun closes off and Kakashi-sensei seems unsurprised, which just hurts more… the distance comes back when she makes snappish comments. Sometimes she can get away with nagging them, or even raising her voice, but when she yells like she always had before Wave…

_(A lot has changed since Wave, but obviously not enough—)_

Her stomach clenches, churns, and that line of thought hits the surface of her mind like a pebble—innocent enough at first with far-reaching effects afterwards. Sucking her bottom lip between her teeth, Sakura wraps her arms around her middle and _squeezes,_ a gesture that has become a sort of safety-blanket for her ever since that mission. The night after she’d seen Ino laughing and still so very happy, whole and with a team that loves her, Sakura had felt like she was crumbling apart inside; she’d stayed curled in bed, arms hugging herself so tightly that her ribs had protested, as if she could hold herself together physically with just her arms. It hadn’t actually done anything, but the gesture still helped her pull herself together again.

Sakura knows she could let go and hang by the string again, drift off and away from this memory before it can spiral, but she’s sworn to stop running away from it. She can’t just let go and leave the boys alone, regardless of how tempting it may be to escape from her own self-loathing and paranoid thoughts—she swore to herself, to her new _nindō,_ that she would be someone they could count on, Someone they could trust to watch their backs… and to stop them when they’re being stupid.

“Enough!” It’s not _quite_ a snap, though her voice is raised enough that even Kakashi-sensei glances up at her, but all the same it leaves Sakura feeling vaguely guilty and quick to explain herself before anyone can feel annoyed with her. “Focusing chakra through your hands doesn’t seem to be working for you guys, either—there’s no need to fight, the two of you just need a different method to learn it from.”

Despite how rational she’d sounded in contrast to how she’d really wanted to bite both of their heads off just minutes before, both boys glower at her as if she’d personally insulted them. Naruto’s expression looks more like a pout while Sasuke-kun’s is so dark that Sakura’s sure that, if she hadn’t accepted her own _nindō_ and made it her sole goal, something she hyper-fixated on to the point of losing sleep, Sasuke-kun’s stare would have left her a weeping mess begging for his forgiveness. She’s actually surprised with all of her determination to look past her lingering, fluttery feelings towards him and Sakura actually has to take a second to marvel at herself for not immediately cooing and apologising—though a part of her, a tiny part that sounds an awful lot like the girl who’d been terrified of showing her forehead, cries out in guilt for angering her crush.

Sakura dutifully ignores that twinge and focuses her attention back to the still-soaked boys instead—and misses the approving eye-smile Kakashi-sensei throws her way.

Moving towards the waters’ edge, where Sasuke-kun and Naruto are currently arguing in the knee-deep waves, Sakura presses her fingers to her chin and hums thoughtfully. She’d really thought she was onto something with the hands theory after seeing how hard the two boys had struggled with the trees before, but _clearly_ even this isn’t helping them learn how to regulate their chakra flow. It’s been three days since they’d first started they hands-on approach, and yet neither of them has managed to actually get their feet onto the waters’ surface. Surprisingly, Naruto’s come closest, having managed to get his hands to stick long enough to attempt pulling himself out, though he’d fallen back in within seconds—but Sakura wonders if maybe Naruto just has that much chakra that he can keep pumping it without worrying he’ll run out like Sakura and Sasuke-kun will.

As of right now, neither boy can stand up to their full height for more than a few seconds in the shallow edges of the water before the currents displace them and they fall back in, leaving them hissing like angry cats while Sakura asks the Gods what she did to deserve this.

_(No right to complain, not after Wave—)_

Before she can latch onto that promising beginning of a downward spiral, a breeze sends the loose locks of Sakura’s hair dancing around her shoulders and knocks her from her musings. Glancing at the way the grass moves around her, the way her hair moves and dances on the wind, awakens a sort of epiphany that leaves Sakura outright _laughing_ at herself.

“When in doubt, go back to the basics…” She murmurs to herself, shaking her head and stepping out onto the waves. At Naruto and Sasuke-kun’s inquiring looks, Sakura takes note that Sasuke-kun’s entire countenance hardens whenever she displays such chakra manipulation with ease. She’ll have to show him some of the scrolls she’d read through and hope his pride won’t cause him to shut her out. “I think I know where you’re both tripping up here—the problem isn’t how much chakra you’re putting into it, it’s how you’re _regulating_ it. The currents are the issue here!”

Naruto, Sasuke-kun, and even Kakashi-sensei stare back at her with matching, equally blank expressions.

“The… currents, Sakura-chan?”

She’d be lying if she said their skepticism didn’t sting a bit, but at the same time it’s not like she can necessarily blame them. Thus far, her various methods haven’t really done them a lot of good—and while Sakura knows Naruto would _never_ think to blame her, she’d caught more than her fair share of scowls from Sasuke-kun these past few days. Not to mention that, before their return to Konoha over two weeks ago, Sakura had never really offered much of anything in terms of bettering herself as a shinobi or as a teammate. She’d been so naïve, so childish, blinded by her self-proclaimed love for a boy that—as she’s learned since the day he’d bled in her arms—she’d never really made the effort to truly get to know.

_(Sasuke-kun deserved better than that. Naruto deserved to be treated better, too. They deserved better than that, than her—)_

Sakura struggles against the ache in her chest, trying to banish the self-depreciating train of thought from the forefront of her mind long enough to explain herself, but no matter how valiantly she tries, it’s still a losing battle. It’s like the one thought opens a dam in her head, letting loose a torrent of thoughts she’s tried and tried and tried to push to the back of her mind during their training. Breaking down when she’s alone is one thing, but here in front of the _boys…?_

_(She almost let them die, she didn’t help, couldn’t help, she was so weak, she let them all down, she—)_

“Ah! Sakura-chan—!”

Concentration thoroughly interrupted, Sakura drops into the waves like a rock with a silent gasp of shock. The cold temperature of the water does wonders for figuratively slapping some sense back into her, and Sakura manages to re-center herself and focus on the task at hand instead of the lingering doubt and self-loathing plaguing her since Wave. She pulls herself back to the surface and sputters, wheezing and pushing her hair from her eyes, just in time to catch Naruto’s expression of alarm as he dutifully wades in after her. _What a good teammate_ , Sakura muses to herself, offering a timid but hopefully reassuring smile. _He ’s always watching out for me._

Sasuke-kun’s expression catches her eye shortly after, though, and Sakura can actually _feel_ her smile slip from her face in reaction. He looks amused, but the smirk on his lips doesn’t make her stomach do somersaults like it would have not so long ago—the edges are as sharp like the kunai in her thigh holster and his eyes are gleaming with amusement at her for failing. It’s not a friendly expression, and seeing it slaps her with a whole new set of conflicting emotions: Sasuke-kun finally noticed her with something other than annoyance, but instead of finding her annoying he just sees her as nothing but a joke.

_(But she can’t blame him. After all, as far as he’s concerned, that’s all she’s been since graduating and being placed on his team.)_

Instead of spiraling as expected from such a harsh mental commentary, though, Sakura is caught by surprise when she realises it isn’t just guilt or shame tightening her chest—she feels indignant _rage._ How dare he laugh at her when he can’t even manage standing on water? How dare he completely ignore all the hard work Sakura’s put into herself, ignore the efforts she’s gone to so that she never lets him down again? She may be the weakest link of Team Seven, but he even treats Naruto poorly! It just… it isn’t _fair!_

“Well, it’s pretty simple, Naruto!” Gritting her teeth, Sakura closes her eyes and directs an almost feral smile towards her dark haired teammate—a full show of teeth with edges just as sharp as his mocking smirk had been. Her chest _burns_ and her fingers are curled into tiny, shivering, painful fists by her sides, but Sakura still stands straight instead of curling in on herself. She has plenty to be ashamed of, plenty she still has to work on, but the righteous anger at his treatment of herself and Naruto is enough to curb those negative thoughts for the moment. “The best way to learn how to walk on water is from the bottom up—you need to feel the movements of the currents first, figure out how the water is moving!”

“Once we know that, it will be easier to channel our chakra.” The way Sasuke-kun murmurs this realisation, like he’s missed something completely simple, fills Sakura with no small amount of vindictive glee. _Take that, shannaro!_ She might feel bad for these thoughts later, but for now… for now, Sakura will take the warm surge of pride that flashes through her chest instead.

“Wow, you’re a genius, Sakura-chan!” Naruto crows, all but hurling himself into the deeper end of the river with a peal of excited laughter. He grins at Sasuke as the raven-haired boy joins him, the two of them closing their eyes with expressions so serious that it’s as if focusing on the currents of the river is the most important thing they’ve ever done in their lives.

Sakura can’t help but smile after them, heart warm despite the chill of the water they’re all in, before she returns to the river’s edge to resume her meditation.

It’s becoming easier and easier to turn her focus inward, Sakura’s realising—it takes her nearly a third of the time it’d taken her just the day before to center herself, even with Sasuke and Naruto shooting insults back and forth in the river and the sound of Kakashi-sensei turning pages beside her. In fact, Sakura would even say that she has an _easier_ time centering herself with the three of them nearby, even at their loudest. It’s comforting, in a way. Familiar.

Watching the green glow of her chakra climbing up and down her arms, making it to her shoulders with relative ease, Sakura muses on her course of action tonight after the boys finally call it quits: she has two new sets of kata that she’s spent the morning memorising, as well as a few exercises that would help improve her stamina. She needs more cardio, as well as building her upper arm strength, and she still needs to work on landing the bullseye more often with her senbon. After all, as excited as she is to fill her arsenal with plenty of jutsu to help out her team, the truth is that she has to have a solid baseline before she can do anything.

Her strength, stamina, and chakra reserves come first—then she can focus on everything else.

“Hey, hey—Sakura-chan! D’ya wanna get some dinner with me?”

Sakura pulls her awareness back to her surroundings at the sound of Naruto’s voice, surprised at his offer when they still have plenty of time left to work on their training. The darkening sky overhead startles her, though, and Sakura’s left wondering how long she’d sat there in meditation. Had they managed to walk on the waves yet? Sakura stands up and brushes off her legs, fully prepared to gently turn him down and continue on with her plans for the night, but looking up at his face makes her hesitate.

Maybe it’s the hesitant but still hopeful expression that he’s wearing, or maybe it’s just her newfound self-awareness reminding her of how awful everyone’s been to him since she’s known of him. How awful _she’s_ been to him. Maybe it’s because she remembers the way he’d looked at a simple homemade bento like it was the rarest of treasures he’d ever seen in his life. Maybe it’s guilt. Maybe she really is actually hungry. Or maybe… maybe Sakura really _does_ just want to be friends with Naruto.

Maybe she just really wants to be friends with her team.

“Oh, well…” Sakura hesitates on how to word her response, insecurity making itself known in the pit of her stomach as she considers the likelihood of a rejection, but she’s quick to throw her hands up as Naruto’s expression falls slightly. Waving her hands in front of her as if to ward off a blow, Sakura offers him a wide, in admittedly unsure, smile and nods her head. “Wh-why don’t we _all_ go? Team bonding, y’know?”

Sasuke-kun opens his mouth, his expression dismissive, and Sakura prepares for a biting remark aimed at either Naruto or herself… but it doesn’t come.

Instead, to Naruto’s amusement and Sakura’s astonishment, whatever Sasuke-kun was about to say is cut short by the solid thump of Kakashin-sensei’s book on top of his head. Kakashi-sensei’s expression is warm with good humour, his single eye curled in that smile of his, but even Sakura can see the underlying threat aimed at Sasuke-kun should he decide to finish whatever negative statement had been on the tip of his tongue. A beat passes and a dark look of annoyance crosses Sasuke-kun’s face, but like a dark storm cloud passing through the otherwise clear sky, Sasuke-kun’s expression lightens back to his usual neutral mask of indifference. Despite her own surprise, though, Sakura reasons that perhaps Sasuke is less willing to tell the man responsible for teaching and helping him reach that goal of ’killing a certain man’ to kindly _screw off._

“Why, Sakura-chan! That’s a great idea!” Kakashi-sensei’s voice is definitely an octave higher than is natural, and it’s so sugary that Sakura’s almost certain that she just felt several cavities form in her mouth. All three of his students stare at him with deadpan expressions as Kakashi-sensei shrugs off Sasuke’s irritated attempt to slap his sensei’s book from atop his head, bristling like an angry cat at the older man.

_(Sakura will never be able to unsee the similarities between Sasuke and a cat again.)_

Naruto cheers.

“—and then my cute little students can go _straight home_ and get some proper rest.”

Sakura sulks.

There’s obviously no room for argument in his voice, and Sakura knows that it’s a pointed command at her, his subordinate, from her superior. The boys may not catch the intent behind the statement, but Sakura realises without a doubt in her mind that Kakashi-sensei is telling her that she needs to slow down and take a day for herself instead of working herself ragged every single day to improve. The way his smile is directed at her, not Naruto or Sasuke-kun, tells Sakura that she will most likely meet some sensei-shaped resistance should she try to return to the training grounds after dinner.

“Maybe we can even make this a regular thing,” Kakashi-sensei says with a light chuckle. Though the sentence is worded like a suggestion, Sakura can hear the intent behind his words loud and clear: Wednesdays will be focused entirely on team-building, and they will double as her mandatory break days. His smile tells her there’s no negotiating this.

Naruto and Sasuke argue all the way down the street, locked in on one another and hurling insults at the speed of sound, completely missing the stares _(some surprised, some disgusted)_ that they draw. Sakura finds herself gravitating to their jōnin sensei’s side instead of trying to catch up with them—though she’s adult enough to admit to herself that she wishes she could. The two of them are on a completely different level, though, and Sakura’s not sure that she’ll ever be able to feel fully like she belongs at their sides.

_(Not like she deserves to—)_

Which is fine. Sakura’s completely fine walking with Kakashi-sensei in silence, her arms folded behind her back and Kakashi-sensei’s attention fully turned to the novel in his hand. He doesn’t look at her—not that she can tell, of course, standing on his left side as she is—but she doesn’t really mind the lack of conversation. Sakura’s found that, while she loves being social and loves having friends, right now she’s been feeling more and more like she doesn’t _deserve_ it. It’s harder to stay focused when she has to be around others all the time… so this small break is good for her.

Glancing up at the sound of laughter she knows as well as she knows herself, Sakura’s eyes glance over to a familiar head of luscious blonde hair, situated between the two boys from their class that Sakura _still_ can’t recall the names of. Team Ten’s facing with their backs to the street, and Sakura’s eager for them to pass on by unnoticed as she turns her eyes back forward, ignoring the twinge of sadness that twists in her gut as she reaches up to run her fingers through her hair. Ino’s hair had been gleaming, her nails painted in dark violet, and Sakura’s sure if she’d been able to see her face that she’d be wearing her favourite strawberry lipgloss.

Sakura hasn’t been doing any of her former hair-care routines, instead only settling for shampoo. She hasn’t put on any makeup since she came home from Wave. The pale coat of nail polish she’d put on before their mission—shimmery but still transparent, so she still looked professional—has been steadily chipping off and she hasn’t even considered taking the time to actually _remove_ it. Nowadays she runs a brush through her hair and then throws it up in a bun on top of her head, or maybe just a quick ponytail… and since she’s caught the concerned glances of her parents, two oblivious civilian merchants who she reads letters from more than she actually sees them, she’s sure everyone _else_ has noticed.

_(Ino would notice.)_

She doesn’t feel self-conscious though, not any more; she’d sworn to herself that she’d give up her vanities and focus on becoming strong, strong enough to stand with her team, to be able to watch their backs and have them trust her to do so. She doesn’t have time trying to doll herself and preen in front of Sasuke-kun and angle to become the next Uchiha matriarch—geez, she’s embarrassed just thinking about how she and Ino had taken their idolisation of him and made him almost like an object in their own eyes.

He’s a real person and he’d almost died, and she’d been completely useless to prevent that.

A swift thud against the top of her skull stops Sakura from heading down that particular thought process yet again today, and Sakura nearly jumps out of her skin as she snaps her head up to stare in confusion at her sensei’s smiling eye. The spine of his little orange book is resting comfortably against her hair, and Sakura is confused as to how Kakashi-sensei had gotten ahead of her in the street—before she peeks around him and sees Sasuke-kun and Naruto turned in their stools at the counter of Ichiraku’s, peering at herself and their sensei with matching expressions of confusion.

She looks back up at the understanding curve of Kakashi-sensei’s eye, not for the first time wondering how he could be so _expressive_ with so little of his face showing, before she offers him a grateful smile and moves to join her team for dinner.

* * *

 

**April 21st 996 — Konohagakure**

“I’m sorry.”

Maybe it’s because yesterday was the first time Sakura had ever really felt like they were on the same team. Maybe it’s because of her realisation before dinner, that epiphany regarding her objectifying him instead of viewing him as another human being. Maybe it’s just the result of constant, overflowing guilt constantly pressing down on her chest, crushing her rib cage, waving her from nightmares and constant reminders that she’s nothing more than an annoyance instead of a reliable comrade in arms. Maybe it’s the way that, when Sasuke-kun had arrived and seen Sakura on the bridge by herself, he’d almost turned and walked away instead of waiting on the bridge with her.

Or maybe it’s just because it’s time for her to own up and move forward.

Despite the apology being long overdue, Sakura’s still horrified at herself for blurting it out now. She and Sasuke-kun are standing on Team Seven’s bridge, the one they wait on together every morning. Naruto’s not there to be a natural deterrent for this conversation to happen, and so the words had fallen from her lips as if a dam had broken. The air around them is so deathly silent that Sakura refuses to breath, afraid she’ll shatter it with even the smallest intakes of breath.

He doesn’t say anything from behind her, his back to hers on the opposite side of the bridge, but she can practically _feel_ how tense he is following her words. His silence stretches on and on for what feels like an eternity, several long seconds in which Sakura is choking on all the words she wants to say, but she doesn’t know how to word it, how to begin. She has so much to say, so many things to apologise for, but she’s just so daunted and she feels so bad but it feels like the longer she keeps this in, the more she rots on the inside, decaying and falling apart and turning into the thick, black sludge that she sees her hands turn into in some of her nightmares.

“What for…?”

Sakura is so relieved to hear the sound of his voice that she leans forward, head in her hands and taking in a sharp breath of air that leaves her knees weak and her head spinning like a top, heels of her palms pressed to her eyes to try and keep an overly explosive show of emotions from showing on her face. She’s _terrified._ Her fingers are trembling, her heart hammering in her chest, and she’s so unsure of what to say next that for a moment the world spins and she’s terrified she might pass out and fall off the bridge and drown and—

“Everything—like, actually everything, Sasuke. For being so pushy and insensitive about your feelings and always asking you out and treating you less like a teammate and more like some obligated boyfriend and being so weak and I couldn’t do _anything,_ I just stood there, and—”

“… Hn.”

Sakura pauses to take in a huge gulp of air, feeling even more lightheaded that before, her mind whirling so fast that she can hardly keep up. Hn? _Hn?!_ What does that even _mean?_ Is he ignoring her apology? Is it not enough? Is he still mad at her? She’s gonna be sick, here it is—she can hardly stand and she feels like trash, like worse than trash, and suddenly she kind of wants to throw herself into the water below and never come back up again. She’s the worst teammate ever. She doesn’t deserve him or Naruto or Kakashi-sensei, and she just—

“Stop it.” Sasuke snaps, the sound of his voice abruptly pulling the world back into focus, everything falling so still and silent in her mind that she feels like she could hear a pin drop and it would echo for the next decade.

“Huh?” is her intelligent reply.

“I can practically _hear_ you overthinking from here, Sakura. Enough.” His voice sounds kind of rough, uneven, like she’s caught him off guard. Sakura abruptly snaps her mouth shut and flicks her eyes down to the water below to look at her reflection. Dazed green eyes stare back at her and she sighs, apparently loud enough for her teammate to hear, because he sighs, too.

“You’re being annoying.”

Closing her eyes against the self-pitying tears, Sakura swallows thickly and wonders if she’ll ever make it up to him, if she’ll ever become more than just the dead weight of Team Seven. Maybe she should bow out of team training today, maybe she should request to move off of this team, maybe—

“But… thank you.”

It’s soft, so soft that Sakura almost thinks she’s imagined it, but she finds a small smile pulling at the corner of her lips all the same. Turning her eyes towards the village, Sakura sees a distinct orange and yellow blob making its way toward the two of them and she subtly wipes away the tears gathering on her lashes before Naruto gets close enough to see them and misread the situation.

She doesn’t say anything else, and neither does Sasuke.

* * *

 

**April 23rd 996 — Konohagakure**

Team Seven is back to D-ranks, and Sakura’s pretty sure that all three of them can agree that it’s freaking torture.

Naruto and Sasuke—she’s getting better at not calling him Sasuke-kun in her head, it’s progress—are at one another’s throats even more than usual today, though Sakura’s kind of surprised that they don’t seem to turn that irritation to her whenever she snaps for them to pipe down. More surprising, though, is the fact that they _do_ quiet down when she snaps at them, instead opting for silently glaring daggers at one another behind her back for a while before the cycle begins anew. She’s pretty sure Kakashi-sensei is laughing at them from behind his book, but every time she looks he’s as silent as the grave… not that she doesn’t stick her tongue out at him anyway before turning back to their assigned fence for today.

A tired glance to the left shows Sasuke’s slow, careful strokes drying unevenly while a glance to the right lets Sakura know Naruto has yet again drawn a face instead of trying to paint the fence. Sakura’s pretty sure she might _kill_ him before Sasuke does if this keeps up.

The mission itself is pretty uneventful, aside from Naruto and Sasuke annoying Kakashi-sensei enough that he pulls Sakura off of fence duty as a punishment for them. Amused at their misfortune, Sakura shares a sneaky smile with her sensei before demonstrating her progress with chakra-enhancement and manipulation. She shows off her enhanced strength by picking him up with relative ease, as well as her speed as she blurs through her katas, before finally she brags about how she’s managed to enhance her eyesight with chakra exponentially.

At first he doesn’t seem to believe her, but once Sakura shows him how she does it and manages to follow one of his blurred movements from one side of the fence to the other, he’s quick to congratulate her on such a feat.

The two of them continue on like this for the next few hours, picking fun at the scowling boys who can’t seem to evenly paint this fence to save their lives. Stretching her arms overhead, Sakura announces her intent to head back to the training ground, which Sasuke actually seems interested in joining her… until Naruto mentions that he’s _yet again_ going to Ichiraku’s for ramen. Again. After having it for lunch, and for breakfast, and for dinner the previous night, and for lunch before that.

“Naruto,” Sakura murmurs carefully, brow pinching in confusion that she can see mirrored on Sasuke’s face. “Do you… only eat ramen? Why not make something at home?”

“Eheheh… Sakura-chan, I don’t really have anything to eat at home. I mostly just eat takeout.” The fact that Ichiraku’s is the only place Naruto is served without qualms is not lost on her, and white hot anger surges through her veins—at Konoha, at herself, at the Hokage. At anyone who treats him this way. _Especially_ herself.

She owes Naruto an apology, too.

“I mostly eat takeout, too,” Kakashi-sensei’s unapologetic admission rips Sakura right out of her musings. “Who has time to constantly make meals?”

Sasuke nodding along with them only serves to poke the bear more and pushes her temper right towards the edge—and, judging by the minute shift in their team’s atmosphere, the boys can all sense the danger looming on the horizon. She actually loses her grasp on her offense at the sight of the collective shift they all make, Kakashi-sensei and Sasuke moving away from her and inward towards Naruto, all of them cringing away from their smaller, pink-haired teammates more rare but still just as explosive temper.

Sasuke and Naruto may fear she’s one small snap away from murdering the three of them in their sleep, but Sakura’s _pretty sure_ Kakashi-sensei is just being dramatic.

“Change of plans, boys,” Sakura declares imperiously, nose turned up and hands on her hips. “We’re going on a grocery run.”

Kakashi-sensei’s huff sounds a lot less like annoyance and more like a laugh, Naruto whines like an injured dog, and Sasuke rolls his eyes so hard she’s afraid they’ll pop right out and rolls themselves back to his house… but they all trail after her when she turns on her heel, anyway, and not once do they _actually_ complain as she leads them from stall to stall.

She’ll count this as a win in her book.

* * *

 

**April 24th 996 — Konohagakure**

“You know, Sakura-chan,” Kakashi-sensei begins conversationally during team training the next day, not even pretending to read his book as he watches Sasuke and Naruto exchange a flurry of blows. Sakura looks up at him from where she’s been working through her newest set of kata, blinking owlishly when he turns to look at her. “With your chakra control and the way you’ve already mastered enhancing your eyesight, I think you could make use of a _very_ helpful technique.”

The offer of Kakashi-sensei teaching her a technique without her bringing one up herself after hours of research has her intrigued, and Sakura steadily slows the chakra flow she’s been pouring through her limbs to a standstill. Flexing her fingers, she perks up from her stances and bounces to stand right in front of her sensei, eyes wide and a hopeful curl twisting at her lips.

_(She can finally learn something useful, she can do better, be better—)_

“Tell me, Sakura, have you ever heard of the shunshin technique?”

“It’s a technique where one channels enough chakra through their entire body in order to move at such extreme speeds that it looks like teleportation to the naked eye.” Sakura chirps off the definition she’s memorised from the scroll packed away in her knapsack, her voice an excited chirp that mirrors the way she’s practically vibrating with anticipation. Oh, when she’d read about this technique, Sakura had wanted nothing more than to try and learn it—in fact, the very reason she’d read up so extensively on eyesight manipulation was completely in preparation for high-speed movement and combat.

_(She’d seen how fast Kakashi-sensei was, how fast Sasuke was already becoming, and Naruto would catch up in no time—she can’t be left behind—)_

“Very good, my cute little walking dictionary.” Sakura’s scowl only serves to make Kakashi-sensei’s grin turn more and more impish, and the way she swats at him when he ruffles his hair only makes him chuckle and muss her little bun up all the more. Just when Sakura’s prepared to snap at him for teasing her, though, Kakashi-sensei steps back and folds his fingers very purposefully into a hand seal for her to see, waiting just long enough to catch the recognition in her eyes—Tiger, that’s the one—before he vanishes in a puff of smoke and leaves.

Sakura flounders, prepared to look around, but then Kakashi-sensei is back again, pointing to where he’s tied her hitai-ate to a branch all the way across the training ground. She touches the top of her head in awe—she hadn’t even felt him take it from her hair!

Sakura doesn’t have the Sharingan or the Byakugan, nor is she as blessed as to be a sensor type… but what she _does_ have is an eidetic memory and a strength of will _(or stubbornness, if one were to ask her mom)_ that puts any one of the famous kekkei genkai to shame. Sakura pictures the day she’d first read about the shunshin and its chakra usage, picturing the way she’d roved her eyes along the bold black ink in her mind’s eye, and then dutifully folds her fingers into the tiger seal Kakashi-sensei had used. Slowly, precisely, Sakura stretches the cool, jade-coloured chakra at her core across her body, smiling as it coats her in a thin layer—in her head, Sakura pictures herself in a pool of water, covered from head to toe in moisture, and then she makes sure to focus a bit more of her chakra into the coils of her eyes.

Opening her eyes and reveling in the clarity of the world, the sharpness of the leaves on each tree and even the rough texture of Kakashi-sensei’s flak jacket, Sakura lets her chakra roll and curl across her skin. Satisfaction thrums in her chest at the sensation and she smiles, pleased that just a few weeks ago she’d never have the chakra control or pools capable of doing this.

And then she _moves._

One blink and Sakura has moved from Kakashi-sensei’s side—and though she only makes it about a quarter of the way toward her hitai-ate, she’s still so pleased with herself that she’s practically glowing. Wide-eyed and a little winded, Sakura turns to where her teammates are staring and Kakashi-sensei is beaming with pride, and it’s with this mental image in her mind that she closes her eyes and forms the tiger seal one more time.

The rest of training goes on much the same—Sakura trying to shunshin to the point of leaving herself lying exhausted on the ground only halfway towards her hitai-ate, Naruto cheering her on, Sasuke trying to sneak-attack Kakashi-sensei—for the rest of the day and far into the evening. The sun is actually setting by the time the boys leave her there, and though Naruto seemed hesitant to let Sakura stay after they’d all left, he eventually scuffed his sandals in the dirt and left with the others, waving somewhat glumly back when Sakura waved them all goodbye.

Her parents still aren’t home from their latest trading expedition, so Sakura doesn’t bother with trying to hurry home before it gets dark. She takes her time working on her katas, going and going until her muscles are screaming for the sweet release of death and her lungs have actually attempted to commit seppuku. Then her anxiety begins to bubble up over the smallest self doubt—Sasuke could do this faster, Naruto wouldn’t stop now—and to clear her mind she winds up going for ten _more_ minutes before she has the inclination to drag herself, panting and sweating like a dog in the worst of summer, from the training grounds to head back home.

She almost doesn’t see him, but when she does she freezes where she’s standing.

Naruto’s back is to her, but there’s no mistaking that shock of blonde hair and vivid orange jumpsuit. It looks like he’s looking at the ground, his fists tucked into his pockets, but the way his shoulders are slumped forward is all kinds of wrong to her… but worse than that is the people around him. Their expressions make something _cold_ twist in Sakura’s gut—like they’re not looking at a person, like they see Naruto as nothing more than a cockroach. Worthless.

_Trash._

_(They should look at her like that, not him—they don’t know him—they don’t know how strong he is—)_

The emptiness of her depression, those seemingly endless waves that she’s only managed to get glimpses of happiness and contentment from over the horizon, suddenly shifts as if by a storm, morphing into something else, something hot and heavy and _burning._ Her anxiety and self-doubt that would usually accompany those thoughts only seem fuel the fire raging in her chest and Sakura’s entire expression twists into one she’s never felt herself wearing before. This feeling is entirely alien… but not at all unwelcome, not in the face of these people treating Naruto the way she thinks _she_ deserves to be treated.

How _dare_ they? Don’t they know how incredible he is? Haven’t they ever seen his smile? Sakura bristles and rage is hot in her chest and she’s practically snarling at every adult she passes, forgetting all about how much of a mess she must look with her hair spilling from her ponytail and sticking to her face and arms. She snatches Naruto’s arm and bares her teeth like an animal at the man closest to him, the one she hears the word _monster_ whispered scathingly from, and for a moment she’s genuinely tempted to show him what a _real_ monster looks like.

She stared Momochi Zabuza in the eyes—this man is dirt under her heel in comparison.

“Sa—Sakura-chan…?” Naruto’s voice pulls Sakura from the depths of that unrealised anger, and it’s with every ounce of her self-control that Sakura pivots on her heel and pulls him along with her. She struggles between two different trains of thought threatening to crash in her head: between the knowledge that Naruto deserves better and she should make them regret it, and the thought that she deserves to be in Naruto’s place, that she doesn’t deserve to be treated like some normal kid and not the useless excuse of a kunoichi she sees when she looks in the mirror.

Sakura doesn’t speak the entire time they’re walking, even when Naruto hesitantly calls her name out a second time a few moments later, and when she finally stops it’s in embarrassment—in the heat of all that rage, she’d brought him back to her home. She feels bad about her reaction, sure, but she doesn’t really _regret_ it… not when she remembers the way his head had hung low, like he was ashamed. Like those people hurt him. Sakura grits her teeth all over again as she turns to face him, her hands reaching out to take his in them, and she has to ignore how Naruto’s face turns pink at the attention.

“Stay with me tonight.”

“Wh—wh—” If she weren’t still so angry and protective and riding a sort of edge that would have her clawing the eyes out of the next person to look down on her blonde teammate, Sakura would probably laugh at his red face and the way he stumbles all over his reply. Either that or she’d punch him out for the slightly dreamy expression that glazes his eyes.

“Not like that, you dummy!” Sakura rolls her eyes and squeezes his wrists, taking a step toward her door and tugging him along. Once upon a time, Sakura had been in this exact position, only in the reverse: it had been Ino tugging her wrists, making her come to her first ever sleepover, trying to uplift a shy girl’s self-esteem and make her smile again. Ino had protected Sakura, had taught her what it meant to be a good friend, and now Sakura herself ready to pass on that lesson, the best gift her very _first_ friend had ever given her. “I mean just stay the night, come have dinner—we can camp out in the living room and everything! Y’know, like a sleepover.”

“I…” Naruto hesitates, and Sakura’s afraid that he’s going to turn her down, that he’s going to walk back into town and she won’t be there to threaten anyone who looks at him like he’s anything less than amazing… but he speaks up again, softer this time, a whispered admission that makes her heart swell and break all at once:

“I’ve never been to a sleepover before…”

Of _course_ he hasn’t. Guilt nearly smothers her and suddenly Sakura is back in fight mode, ready to fist fight everyone who ever passed up the chance to befriend him, including herself. No, _especially_ herself. Is this how Ino felt all those years ago? Sakura was only shy, but Naruto… the damage runs so deep with him, Sakura can already see it. His eyes are so bright in the daylight, but in the dim light of her porch light, she can see shadows that he tries to hide from her, she can see there’s so much to unpack that she wouldn’t know where to even begin.

Sakura really should go apologise to Ino, too.

“Well, there’s a first time for everything!” She hopes her smile doesn’t show how badly her heart is hurting, how much it pains her to take this role when she doesn’t feel like she deserves to. She hopes he doesn’t realise just how badly she’s failed him not just as a teammate, but as a human being as well. She hopes he can’t see the hatred aimed at herself on the edges of her smile, so sharp and brittle that if it shatters it will hurt all the more to pick up the pieces.

If he does, he doesn’t show it.

“Okay, Sakura-chan.”

The two of them go inside and Sakura drags down all her bedding from her room, brushing off Naruto’s assurances that he can sleep on the floor or just go home, and then she empties all of the spare bedding from the closets and even pulls her parents’ bedding for extra measure. She and Naruto spend several minutes making a large pallet in the middle of the living room, pushing everything to the side and laughing as they layer it, and Sakura makes a show of lying down and then getting up when it’s not comfortable enough. It makes Naruto laugh, so she counts it as a victory.

Then she pelts Naruto with a pillow and he squeals. She lets him win his first ever pillow fight.

It’s after they’re lying in their giant pallet, staring up at the ceiling in a comfortable silence with all the lights off, that Sakura decides it’s time. _This is it._ This is the next step to making amends for failing him, for failing Sasuke and Kakashi-sensei and their entire village. She hopes that this will help her stop rotting inside. She hopes that this will fix the ache that won’t go away. Just a little.

“Hey, Naruto?”

“Yeah, Sakura-chan?”

If she reaches out with her right hand, she’ll be able to touch his arm or even thread her fingers through his. She could close that distance between them with a single movement, just by overcoming her own cowardice and taking that step even if he were to reject her… she doesn’t, though. Her hand lays rooted in the same spot on the blankets, trembling just slightly, anxiety curling in her gut and making her swallow convulsively. She’s already close to tears, eyes burning and throat constricting and chest heaving and lips quivering—

“I’m so sorry,” she finally manages, her hands coming up to rub at her eyes as the tears spill, and she feels so very miserable in that moment. Pitiful. Selfish. How could she cry when she’s trying to apologise to him? This isn’t about her—this is about apologising, swearing to make it up to him, trying to make Naruto see that she never wants to fail their team ever, ever again. “I’m so, _so_ sorry! I’ve been so terrible to you and I was so mean and I just—”

“Sakura-chan…”

“I was cruel! Just cruel! You’re so strong and you’re a great ninja and I mocked your _dream_ and I laughed in your face and I said so many mean things to you and I was so worthless back in Wave—”

“Sakura-chan.”

“I wish I could take it all back, and I understand if you hate me, Naruto. _I_ hate me, and—”

_“Sakura-chan!”_

He’s holding her wrist like she’d done to him earlier tonight, and his grip is trembling just like hers was. Hiccuping, Sakura turns to look at him and can’t help the new tears that sting her eyes as she realises that Naruto’s crying, too… but he’s smiling, and she finds herself smiling back despite the way the emptiness in her chest is stretching at the edges and threatening to swallow her whole.

“I don’t hate you, Sakura-chan. It’s okay.”

He doesn’t let go of her wrist for the rest of the night.

* * *

 

**April 27th 996 — Konohagakure**

It’s Wednesday and Team Seven is at Ichiraku’s yet again, the four of them having taken their usual corner seats while they laugh and talk over their dinner. Kakashi-sensei has already inhaled his food, much to their chagrin, and is perched on his stool beside Naruto, who is sitting on Sakura’s left side with a smile—it’s different now, a softer grin than usual, one that she’s realised they’ve begun sharing since their sleepover—and Sasuke’s made himself comfortable on her other side.

The upside of this arrangement: she’s got one of her boys on either side and feels included in the team discussion.

The downside: they argue across her and her sanity nears the snapping point.

Kakashi-sensei is laughing at her predicament from beside Naruto and Sakura is considering the pros and cons of hurling her bowl of Ramen at his face when The Discussion starts. See, The Discussion is one that Sakura’s been dreading since Wave, one she’s tried to put off for a very long time now, and already she’s wondering what kind of monumental distraction she can cause with a half-empty bowl, a napkin, and a single chopstick when Naruto and Sasuke both look her way with matching expectant looks on their faces. Sakura wants the ground to reach up and swallow her on the spot.

“So, Sakura-chan, what do you think?”

They want to discuss team specialisations... and they want her opinion.

_(They want to know how to best carry your dead weight—you don’t contribute anything—they’re going to leave you behind—)_

Swallowing heavily, Sakura drops her gaze to her ramen with a sick twist to her stomach, resisting the urge to shove the bowl away unfinished thanks to those nauseating thoughts. She knows it’s true, knows it deep in her heart that for all the progress she’s made lately, she’s still the dead weight of Team Seven. No doubt any plans for their team would revolve around keeping her out of the fight for as long as possible, like they’d had to do in Wave.

_(Couldn’t even protect the client by yourself—you had one job—)_

“Well…” They’re still waiting on her to speak, so Sakura swallows and runs her tongue over her suddenly dry lips, navigating as carefully as she can without laying her heart and guts out on the counter and screaming _I know I’m worthless, I’m sorry, I’m trying so hard._ After a moment’s hesitation, Sakura tries again: “As of right now, I’m not really any good with ninjutsu, and I’m still trying to improve my taijutsu…”

She looks up expecting matching deadpan expressions of _well, duh_ on their faces—some kind of acknowledgement that of course they know she’s gotten nowhere, that of course she’s useless—but what she sees instead gives her pause: Sasuke is nodding thoughtfully on one side and Naruto beaming with encouragement on the other, neither one of them looking even the slightest contemptuous or annoyed. It takes her a few moments to get over the outright awe burning in her chest before she can swallow and finish her thought, pulse hammering in her ears and drowning out all the self-deprecating remarks and anxiety that had been clawing its way out of her stomach just moments before.

This is the first time she’s felt like an actual member of this team before, and she has to take a moment to swallow thickly before she continues: “I’d probably be good for long-range support, and I want to learn more about traps and genjutsu, but…”

“No, that’s a good idea.” Sasuke cuts her off, and Sakura jerks in surprise, glancing at where Naruto is nodding approvingly at him instead of immediately jumping on anything the raven-haired genin says to pick a fight. Confused, Sakura glances at Kakashi-sensei and sees he’s pretending to read his book, not even looking up at her soft, shocked noise. Sasuke continues despite her flabbergasted reaction, “We have an advantage other teams don’t. Naruto isn’t terrible, especially not with his clones, and I’m decent with taijutsu and my ninjutsu.”

Sakura wilts, just a little.

_(It’s true, you know—they’re the real core of this team—you’re just the_ **_cheerleader_ ** _—)_

“Stop that,” Sasuke’s harsh, quick words snap Sakura out of that particular train of thought, but when she looks back at him he’s staring straight ahead, dark eyes focused anywhere but on her. She can practically feel the eyes of their teammates shifting to stare at him, too. “You may not have our raw strength, Sakura, but what you lack in power you make up for with intelligence. _Use_ it.”

“Yeah!” Naruto crows, slapping her back and grinning from ear to ear. It’s like Naruto’s boisterous cheer makes everything in the universe right again, shifting everything that had been upended by—dare she hope—encouraging words from Uchiha Sasuke back onto its proper axis, and the world slots right back into place. “Sakura-chan’s a _genius!_ With you coming up with strategies and watching our backs, there’s nothing Team Seven can’t do!”

They trust her to watch their backs.

“…Thanks, guys.”

She’s blushing all the way down the back of her neck, and Sasuke’s ears are a little pink, but she’s smiling just as widely as Naruto even hours after they all part ways.

* * *

 

**April 28th 996 — Konohagakure**

“A little birdie says you two had a sleepover,” Kakashi-sensei says the next day with an unreadable edge to his tone. Sakura’s so caught off guard by his words that she loses her footing and falls straight into the water for the first time in a long while, missing Naruto’s scandalised blush and Sasuke’s own disbelieving expression, dark eyes swinging between his two teammates.

“I—yeah, I asked if he wanted to come sleep over.” Sakura admits at last, and she’s sure her entire face is the same colour as the roots of her hair—but she doesn’t look away from Kakashi-sensei’s carefully blank expression no matter how badly she wants to curl up and hide under the waves of the little river they’re practising by. She apologised to Naruto and she doesn’t regret anything about that night… outside of not decking that old man that had called her friend a monster, maybe. “I wanted to apologise to him and we spent the time getting to know one another.”

“I see.”

Sakura wonders if they’re going to get in trouble for a moment, if there’s some sort of _rule_ about male and female teammates having sleepovers or something, but she doesn’t risk glancing over at Naruto—after all, she’s learned Kakashi-sensei tends to mess with them just because he can, and if her standing up to him and challenging him to disapprove of their bonding is some sort of test, she doesn’t want to fail. He’s a strangely sadistic man with basically no social skills to speak of, but he’s by no means cruel, and she’s absolutely sure Kakashi-sensei knows how Naruto is treated and that he’d never scold her for reaching out and treating him better than before.

“Well,” Kakashi-sensei drawls after another lengthy moment, finally creasing his eye shut in a smile and freeing Sakura from their staring contest. “Did you two have fun?”

“Yeah!” Naruto bellows without missing a beat, jumping up from where he’d been beside Sasuke and zipping up to Kakashi-sensei, practically _vibrating_ with excited energy. Apparently that had opened the floodgate, and Sakura’s left to stand there with her blush growing darker and darker as Naruto regales the other members of their team with her so-called daring rescue, making her out to be a brave heroine instead of the coward they should all know she really is.

She makes eye contact with Sasuke in hopes that maybe he’ll make one of his snarky comments and derail Naruto’s story, but before she can plead with her gaze, she finds herself caught staring at the particular expression he’s wearing. Sakura wonders what it is, the strange light in his eyes just before he closes his eyes and turns back to his stretches. He almost looks like…

Like a child being left out of a game.

Tuning Naruto’s excited chatter out, Sakura turns back to her katas with half-hearted determination; she’s much too focused on that flicker of emotion in Sasuke’s eyes all throughout their training, so much so that she actually doesn’t even realise she’s successfully shunshined across the clearing to the tree with her hitai-ate until Kakashi-sensei points it out. She moves mechanically through her stretches and quick spar with Naruto, wondering what it meant, what she should do… or if she should do anything at all.

Would Sasuke accept an invitation to sleepover with her and Naruto if she asked?

Maybe he was just bothered that he wasn’t invited at all, or maybe he had very strict ideals on inter-team relationships and didn’t like that they’d done something so intimate, become so close. Maybe she was reading way too much into a simple expression. Maybe he was just bothered that training hadn’t already started. Maybe she was hyper-focusing again and training was already over.

“Hey, hey, Sakura-chan! Wanna go for ramen again tonight?” Naruto’s voice rips her from her musing and she looks up, smiling at his bright expression—she’s swiftly learning that the blonde boy’s grin is becoming something she can’t say no to, and Sakura wonders if that’s a bad thing or not. If he ever finds out, mischief is bound to ensue.

“Sure, Naruto. Wanna stay the night again?” Sakura rolls her shoulders and smiles tiredly at him as he nods excitedly, giving Sakura a small anxious idea that he may just snap his own neck and send his head hurtling into the stratosphere. She pauses for one long, heavy moment before she glances over her shoulder and waves to catch Sasuke’s attention, struggling to raise her voice and push down the raging blush that threatens to coat her face once again. “Do you want to come, too, Sasuke?”

He hesitates, clearly prepared to shoot her offer down with a polite self-esteem assassination that only an Uchiha is capable of, and Sakura’s about ready to give it up… and then Naruto, bless his soul, swoops in like some sort of god-touched saviour to do something only _he_ can do when it comes to Uchiha Sasuke.

He baits him.

“Bah! Sasuke probably wouldn’t wanna come—he probably thinks you have cooties, Sakura!”

It’s like he’s flipped a switch, and suddenly Sasuke’s pivoting on his heel and glaring daggers at Naruto, spine straight and head held high. The transformation is so immediate that Sakura’s shocked into silence, eyes flicking between the two boys as they shoot off potshot after potshot at one another at lightning speed. She’s probably going to have whiplash.

“I do not, dobe.”

“You _so_ do, teme!”

This goes on for several minutes and, as their insults become simultaneously more creative and more idiotic, Sakura finds herself staring up at the heavens, hands help out with her palms up, as if shrugging at whatever god happens to be looking down at them. _(This is why Kakashi-sensei is the way he is, it has to be.)_ She’s completely prepared to just take back her offer altogether when Sasuke steps closer to them, hands fisted in his pockets, glaring at Naruto with every single muscle in his body tense enough that she’s sure she could flick a stone at him and it’d crumble on impact.

“Well? Let’s go.”

Kakashi-sensei is laughing at her as they walk away. Bastard.

The two of them argue all the way to her house, argue as she unlocks her front door, and Sakura’s torn between wanting to throttle the both of them and possibly _only_ throttling Naruto. Poor Sasuke looks so tense that Sakura almost gives him an out. Almost. Instead, she smiles in what she hopes is a reassuring manner and hands him some blankets and pillows. Naruto remembers what to do after last time, and it doesn’t take Sasuke any time at all to realise the intent and help them lay out a big enough pallet to give all three of them ample room on the floor.

The tension in the room is almost painful, and while Sakura flounders for a way to break the ice, Naruto has his own plans—in true Naruto fashion, he decides to promptly induct Sasuke into the Pillow War Hall Of Fame, smacking the raven-haired boy right in the face with a pillow and grinning from ear to ear. Then, the two explode into motion and Sakura is torn between fending them off and trying to take care of damage control.

Two vases and a clock are lost to the cause. Sakura has to make a new rule for pillow fights and breakables.

The three of them stay up a while after Sakura finishes cleaning up, all of them settled comfortably into their places on the pallet, all of them staring up at the ceiling in silence. Sakura is in the middle, Sasuke on her left and Naruto on the right, but Sasuke is further away—he’s more or less crammed into the corner, making it look like Naruto and Sakura are snuggling by comparison. It’s bittersweet, but Sakura knows clear boundaries when she sees them, so she resolves to just close her eyes and tries to focus on sleeping instead.

“Hey, teme?” Naruto’s voice is soft, a gruff whisper beside her, and Sakura furrows her brow for a moment. She’d honestly thought he was close to passing out.

“Yeah, dobe?” As where Naruto sounds honestly curious, Sasuke sounds cautious.

“Remember when Kakashi-sensei was talking about our goals?”

Ah. The forbidden topic. Sakura wonders if she should warn Naruto off of asking, but Sasuke replies before she can even fully open her mouth, making her jaw snap shut with an audible click.

“… what of it?” Defensive, now.

“Well…” Naruto trails off for a moment, and Sakura wonders if she should axe this conversation before it can spiral too badly, as discussions are wont to do with these two. “We’re a team, so we all have to be strong enough to reach this guy, right?”

“I’m going to be the one to kill him.” Sasuke’s angry now. Aggressive. “Not either of you.”

“Duh.” Sakura can hear Naruto rolling his eyes and cringes back into her pillow, staring wide-eyed at the ceiling as this heavy discussion settles over her like a smothering blanket. “I get that—but we have to be able to watch your back, and we have to make sure no one else interferes, right? We’re a _team._ So we all have to get strong together.”

“… Aah.”

“So how strong is he, then? How hard do we need to work?”

Sakura thinks this moment is very, very fragile beneath Naruto’s usually clumsy hands, yet here he is handling it with more finesse than Sakura herself could ever hope to. She holds her breath, chin tilted just slightly toward Sasuke in the darkness, waiting for his reply with the feeling that this moment could easily make or break their team.

“He is… very strong. A genius.” Sasuke says this like it pains him and she swallows thickly, her heart skipping a beat. “I don’t even know if Kakashi could win against him.”

“Can you tell us more about him?” Sakura’s spoken up before she’s even realised what she’s said, and her entire body freezes in the aftermath of her words. She can hear them echoing off the walls of her home, slamming against the painted walls and hardwood floors, shattering picture frames and memories and this entire moment for her team—

“He…” He pauses, voice hitching, and Sakura feels _guilt_ wash over her from head to toe, but Sasuke powers on regardless. The weight of every single word is too much for one boy to bear alone, she thinks, and each syllable is short and clipped, as if he’s perusing his entire vocabulary and only picking the most precise words to describe him. “He is—was my older brother. He knows how to use his Sharingan to levels that I do not, not to mention countless of our family’s jutsu… he was a prodigy.”

“I see…” Sakura murmurs after he’s gone silent. The only emotion awash in her little living room is his anger and a long-lingering grief that she’s sure she could never understand. What he’s just shared was obviously very difficult for him, something he still struggles with, and Sakura is both relieved and guilty all at once. She’s sure he’s shared all he feels comfortable with—probably _more_ than he’s comfortable with, honestly—and she doesn’t want him to have to divulge anything more. “We’ll have to train hard, then.”

“Yeah.” Naruto sounds oddly serious in this moment, and Sakura smiles with awe at the determination colouring his words. She reaches out to touch his wrist, and she can feel that his hand is curled into a fist at his side. “We’ll be the strongest shinobi in the village, and then we’ll find him and you’ll kick his ass, teme.”

“Then we’ll all come back and you’ll take the seat as Hokage.” Sakura says it easily and with such conviction that she can’t help the proud little smile that quirks her lips.

“Yep, and you two will be my most trusted guards, and we’ll show the world how strong the three of us are! Sound good, teme?”

It’s silent for a moment, and Sakura wonders if maybe he’s not as entertained as the two of them by the idea, but the she feels his fingers on her wrist—just a whisper against her skin that’s gone as soon as it comes—and she relaxes with a content smile.

“… Aah.”

* * *

 

**April 29th 996 — Konohagakure**

“So, how was the sleepover?” Kakashi-sensei asks her, eyes on his book as he turns a page with his thumb.

“Oh, it was great—maybe _you_ should come next time.” Sakura replies easily, frowning as he waves off her genjutsu once again without even batting an eye. She was so certain she’d had him that time!

Sasuke and Naruto are entangled in their newest routine, sparring both with their fists and their words. It’s a test in concentration, she supposes, like they’re testing one another and making sure they can’t be caught off guard by cutting remarks or bold insults. Sakura smiles as Sasuke ignores a comparison about his hair and the backside of a chicken, ducking to throw a punch at Naruto’s face along with a retort about Naruto’s face having a resemblance to a—well, _that’s_ just disgusting.

“Mm, better not.”

Sakura rolls her eyes at his easy denial and tries again—snake, rat—and growls when Kakashi-sensei just levels her with a bored expression. She’d be getting better if he’d stop being so freaking cryptic and actually make an effort to help her get this!

“Mah, my cute little genin are becoming a proper team all on their own.” Kakashi-sensei’s eyes travel from her back to the boys and she frowns, not much caring for the faraway expression in his eyes. She’s never seen him look like that before, and especially not at any of them. He looks so… _sad._ “It’s like you’re the brain, Sasuke is your sword, and Naruto your shield. I’m so proud.”

His added fake sniffle just has her looking at the sky and mouthing _why me?_ to the Gods watching her misfortune.

“Well, if that’s true…” Sakura stretches her arms over her back and arches her back, spine popping audibly, and moves to stand up from her sitting position. Patting off the grass from the back of her dress, Sakura smiles down at him and folds her arms behind her back, cocking a hip and shrugging her shoulders in a carefree movement. “You’re our heart, then—because it’s thanks to you that we’re all together, anyway, sensei.”

The hesitant but completely sincere smile she gets in return will stay with Sakura for the rest of her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **11/06/18:** This chapter has been fully re-written. While there aren't all that many new scenes, I did make sure to better focus on how Sakura isn't just "bouncing right back," her self-esteem and doubts are all still very fresh... they're just not what she's focusing on, now. I also hope the addition of dates helps people with the flow of time in this fic, as some people thought she was making "leaps and bounds" in a matter of days. I extended the time between Wave and Chūnin Exams because, while it makes sense for a shōnen series to go from One Big Event to the next, it's not very good story-telling and Team 7 had hardly any time to really, genuinely grow before it happened.
> 
> The original word count of this chapter was 8,105. This revision's word count is now 11,473.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	3. til it turned me inside out

**May 7th 996 — Konohagakure**

Something seems to have changed between his cute little genin.

Kakashi can see it plain as day in the way the three of them move together, as one unit instead of three different people; while it’s not quite seamless, not yet, he can’t help the swell of pride in his chest as he watches their clumsy yet clearly practised maneuvers. The three of them must have been spending some time training without him—he’d known about their frequent post-training training sessions, and he also knew they’d spend time sparring while he watched from his perch so that he could show up “late”—and Kakashi has to admit he’s impressed at their improvements not just as shinobi, but as a team.

They’re all making up for one another’s weaknesses, and though Kakashi can tell the three of them are splitting their concentration between enemy and comrade instead of relying solely on instinct, it’s actually rather surprising to see. Sasuke comes at Kakashi from an angle, swinging his leg in a kick that’s far too wide, but before Kakashi can punish him for the slip-up Sakura’s there, a chakra enhanced jab aimed at the arm he’d reached out with in an attempt to snag Sasuke’s ankle. Pivoting on his heel to dodge both Uchiha and Haruno, Kakashi swipes out to grab Sakura by _her_ wrist instead, fully intent on showing his most rapidly improving student just what pride can do to her, when her lips curl into a smirk that has Kakashi freezing in place.

Kakashi barely makes the jump in time to avoid a literal army of Naruto’s clones crashing against the place he’d just been standing like some sort of orange tidal wave made of migraine-inducing nightmares. Cursing himself for focusing too hard on what he’d assumed to be a fatal flaw of Sakura’s, Kakashi sends his cutest student a one-eyed glare that she smiles right back at. A trap of her design, no doubt.

It’s a smart strategy, too, he’ll give them that. Naruto’s clones act as a buffer even as Kakashi disposes of them, effectively separating him from the three of them so that they can back up and regroup. Smiling with pride, Kakashi punches through the last clone in his way, swiping his fingers through the smirking clone and shifting his weight back onto his right leg, watching as his three little genin move into a formation with a nod of Sasuke’s head, splitting up as if to surround him.

He’s actually kind of offended that they’ve made so much progress together without him, but the pride that’s burning in the pit of his stomach diminishes any kind of sadness at feeling unneeded, its light worming its way up into his head and _squeezing_. Once, when he’d seen these three brats together, he’d been reminded of his own team. He’d seen so much of Obito in Naruto, had more than once had to blink away brown hair and eyes from Sakura’s smile, had seen all the worst things about himself in Sasuke. During Wave, it was all he could think about, that if he’d failed, he would have lost them all over again.

Now, though, he only sees bright blonde spikes framing eyes the same colour of the sky. He only sees a broody kid with eyes shadowed by loss with dark hair instead of his own. He sees Sakura, not Rin, and though he wants to protect them all just as he did before, he wants to protect them by their _sides_ , not by caging them and hiding them away from the world. He finally understands how Minato-sensei felt all those years ago, how his sensei coped with training child soldiers, why he taught the importance of teamwork as he did.

Suddenly, Kakashi’s more than grateful for his mask in that moment; it hides a genuine smile from the world, one that he feels like he’d seen on Minato-sensei’s face more than once before his team had splintered apart, torn at the seams…

His musings are interrupted by Sasuke sweeping his legs out from under him just as Sakura leaps at him, planting her feet squarely on his shoulders and _pushing_ to send him toppling backwards. His back hits the grass due to nothing but shock, his bewilderment momentarily stunning him, and Kakashi decides that he’s definitely just offended that his kids have taken advantage of his emotional breakthrough to win their little spar. Here he is, admitting he’s proud and that he loves these little god-forsaken gremlins despite every single one of his valiant efforts to do otherwise, and how do they decide to repay him?

By letting Naruto and all of his clones literally dog-pile on top of him.

“Mah—what happened to my team of cute little genin?” Kakashi mourns loudly, lips twisting into a delighted little grin when he hears a groan that he just _knows_ belong to Sakura in response. He also hears Sasuke scoff, though the sound is more like a laugh than anything else. _Hm_.

“We’re right here, Kaka-sensei!” Several of the Naruto’s above him chorus, the others giggling and chattering away about how they’ve taken down the Legendary Copy Nin. It’s like he’s lying beneath a wriggling mass of ramen-scented disaster. _Minato-sensei… is this your idea of payback from beyond the grave?_ Kakashi doesn’t even realise that the usual lance of pain that would normally go through his chest from even the slightest reminder of his late sensei is notably absent. There’s no pain, only mirth. _Is this retribution for Obito and I always being such menaces to you?_

“Okay, dobe—let him up already.” Sasuke sounds more than a little smug, which makes Kakashi silently count down the different ways he could wipe the smirk off of his adorable little avenger face. There’s a water source near this training field, isn’t there? _Oh, yes…_ “I think we can chalk up seventy-seven as a success, Sakura.”

Seventy… seven?

“I don’t know about all that, Sasuke.” Sakura is definitely his favourite, Kakashi decides. He catches a glimpse of her face as she yanks off yet another Naruto from his prone body, though he notices that the real Naruto isn’t even part of the pile—he’s just standing off to the side by Sasuke, arms folded up behind his head and that damned grin nearly splitting his face. Sakura pulls another Naruto away and is quick to send an unamused look the blonde’s way, and Kakashi notices with no small amount of amusement that apparently it’s all the indication Naruto needs to release all of his clones. Sakura nods, apparently pleased, and for some reason that only makes Sasuke’s smirk widen even more.

Why on earth is he still lying here again?

“Kakashi-sensei was hardly trying—we should probably save seventy-seven for distracted opponents.” Sakura continues, shrugging her shoulders and planting her hands on her hips. Kakashi’s eyes snap to her as the implications of her words sink in. _That little pink-haired devil_. “I wouldn’t even really wanna try this one out in the field.”

_This one_. As in, seventy-seven was the number of strategies they’d concocted to use against him. Caught in a war between pride and betrayal, Kakashi turns a wide eye onto his only female student, pouring as much of his disbelief into his stare as he can. He’s left wondering just when exactly she’d become so very un-cute when all she does is _smile back at him like she didn’t just casually reveal she’s been plotting against him with the boys behind his back_.

Kakashi makes a show of clutching his hands to his chest and writhing on the ground, making sure to give his best performance with a high-pitched whine of imminent death that he refuses to admit sounds distinctly canine. When Sakura simply rolls her eyes at his antics, all Kakashi can do is pout and wonder when his beloved, cutest student had turned against his and forsaken him this way. Oh, the shame…

“Yeah, teme! He isn’t even trying!”

“That isn’t something to be proud of, dobe.”

“Wh—I’m not! I’m just _saying_!”

Kakashi glances between the two boys and his little pink-haired menace of choice, grateful that at least _one_ of his kids seems to understand that he’s always exhausted. She probably gets why, too, given the metamorphosis she’s gone through in the past month or so. Naruto and Sasuke have always been like bickering puppies, rolling around in the grass and yipping unintelligible nonsense, but Sakura looks less like the love-stuck pre-teen he’d been initially saddled with and more like an overly fond but long-suffering mother.

She’s changed so much since Wave—they all had their struggles with that particular mission, all of them saw something about themselves or the world that they didn’t necessarily like or know how to deal with, but with Sakura… well, when they’d initially returned to Tazuna’s home, Kakashi fully expected her to tell him she was planning on turning in her hitai-ate. He wouldn’t have been surprised if she had chosen to step back from this particularly bloody path after the way he’d watched her fall into an almost fugue-like state, staring blankly at the makeshift graves without making a single sound; she was, after all, a civilian-born girl who was intelligent enough to know when she was in over her head. He wouldn’t have blamed her.

Which is probably why he was so surprised to see her meditating the very next day, and the day after that. He’d seen the lingering effects of the mission in her just as he’d seen them in the boys, but while she took much longer to bounce back than they did, Sakura did so with an absolute vengeance. He’d watched her practically inhale the entire genin section of the library, taking notes home from scrolls she couldn’t take home, memorising hand-signs and chakra usage, putting that remarkable mind of hers to use in ways she’d never really done before. He’d followed and watched over her even while she practised in the dark, every single night, even when it wasn’t mandatory for him to do so.

He’s also seen the way her eyes darkened at the slightest reminders of that mission—he’s watched her practically cave in on herself, pushed herself into exhaustion, punishing herself for the things she couldn’t do before. Gone is the innocent, bright-eyed girl who wore her naïveté like a shield—and doesn’t that just bite like a kunai to the gut, seeing that light snuffed out, seeing the way fear darkens the edges of her eyes at random intervals of their day. She hasn’t been the same, and it’s all his fault. Just another failure to tack onto his ever-growing list of fuck ups.

Kakashi blinks his brooding away just in time to see Sakura’s hand extended down to him, a warm smile on her face that makes him wonder if somehow she’s added mind-reading to her steadily lengthening list of abilities. Even though he knows she’s capable of it, it still startles him when Sakura handles him like he weighs nothing, pulling him up with next to no effort thanks to a little chakra infusion into the muscles of her arms. A man easily twice her size and weight, picked up and set on his feet like he’s just a child that she’s been asked to look after instead of the man assigned to look after _her_. Kakashi is apparently staring down at her for a second too long, because Sakura simply reaches out to pat his arm like she’s his mother and not his student before turning to wrangle the boys out of their scuffle.

Even after a day of sparring and being no-doubt completely exhausted, she’s still pushing herself—to improve, to keep up, to not be left behind—and when Sakura turns to silently order him _(him, Kakashi Hatake, the Konoha’s Copy Nin—)_ to follow her and the boys to Ichiraku’s to lunch, Kakashi can’t suppress the absolutely wicked gleam in his lone eye. That gleam only intensifies when Sasuke and Naruto immediately quiet down and follow after her without any further argument.

Kakashi smiles to himself as he ambles up beside her, practically preening under her questioning gaze, and reaches out to fondly ruffle her hair.

Haruno Sakura is going to be _terrifying_.

The walk to Ichiraku’s is uneventful as always, with Kakashi rolling his eyes as Naruto and Sasuke compete over every little thing and Sakura just laughs and sighs at the proper intervals. While he’d been pretty unenthusiastic about being a jōnin sensei, Kakashi has to admit that he’s grateful the Sandaime had given him this team despite his reservations. The four of them are a good fit: Naruto’s sunshine balances out Sasuke’s darkness, Kakashi bounces between theatrics to lighten a situation and seriousness to command respect, and Sakura’s level head and alarmingly maternal instincts keep them all in check. He’s aware that they could all be good shinobi either on their own or in any kind of combination, but the fact of the matter remains that if you take any one of them out of the equation, it simply doesn’t work the same.

They can be good on their own, sure—but together, they’re _great_.

It’s when they’re sitting down and waiting for their bowls to come out that Kakashi’s reminded of a specific lesson he’d given all of them during a genjutsu session with Sakura. _Trust your instincts,_ he’d told her in regards to breaking out of a genjutsu, _they’re your_ _greatest natural defense, a built-in tool that all shinobi should learn to respect and master_. Kakashi remembers the way the three of them had perked up at the advice, eyes so full of trust in him that he’d found his way to the memorial stone almost immediately afterwards to try and sort out the complicated knot of feelings squeezing in his chest. The pride he’d felt warred with the guilt of their very first mission outside village walls, and the knowledge that they trusted him and could look at him with eyes like those had torn open old wounds Kakashi hadn’t even known were there, scabbed over and forgotten.

This particular memory is actually why Kakashi looks up with interest to catch a glimpse of the change in the air. Sasuke and Naruto had frozen in the midst of an argument, tense as they shifted in their stools towards one another—inward, like they were cringing into Sakura’s sides as if from an attack. It was minute, so subtle that Kakashi wondered if they’d even realised their movements, especially Sasuke, but the memory of their lesson on instincts makes Kakashi second guess himself. Their hackles are raising, Naruto’s expression bordering on rude while Sasuke would look nonchalant if not for the hard lines of his shoulders and the white-knuckled grip he has on the edge of the counter. Even Sakura seems tense, though her expression is polite, if a little confused—probably aimed at both her own reaction and her teammates’.

Intrigued, Kakashi turns his gaze from his students to assess the “threat” himself, eyebrows raised and Obito’s eye itching behind his hitai-ate. He’d half expected Ibiki or, heaven forbid, Anko to have approached them, someone who gives off the threatening vibes that would warrant such a reaction from his little genin.

Instead, it’s just a boy.

If he were anyone else, Kakashi would have scoffed and used this chance to finish his bowl of ramen without his team’s attention fixed on his mask with a borderline-obsessive intensity. If he were anyone else, Kakashi would have just chalked this little event up to two boys not liking another boy talking to their very cute, very _female_ teammate with a smile that’s bordering on maybe a little too friendly for a first meeting. Someone else might have looked at this young, unassuming man and written him off as nothing more than another genin scoping out possible competition for the upcoming chūnin exams, or a boy showing interest in a pretty girl.

But he’s _Hatake Kakashi_ , and when he sees that Sasuke’s own shoulders are taut with unease, Kakashi decides that he’s not going to simply write off the silver-haired boy who’s staring at Sakura like she’s a lot more interesting than Kakashi _knows_ most people think she is.

The only thing unknowing people find distinctive about Haruno Sakura is her colouring—after all, she’d been an intelligent student, a civilian born paper ninja, but she wasn’t a student anyone had placed any kind of expectations on—but the way this boy is staring at her doesn’t at all lead Kakashi to thinking that he’s only here because he’d laid eyes on a pretty girl. There’s something in the way he stares at Sakura that sets Kakashi on edge, like he’s pressing a kunai to her throat instead of just smiling at her, and Kakashi wonders if the boys reacted this way because of a mere gut feeling or if they too see the same strange gleam in the stranger’s eyes.

“I’m Yakushi Kabuto,” he introduces himself, all friendly smiles and polite bows of the head. Kakashi frowns minutely, turning the name over in his mind. He doesn’t recognise it at all. He doesn’t even think he’s ever actually _seen_ this boy before in his life, despite the Konohagakure hitai-ate displayed proudly on his forehead. There’s always the possibility that he was what the jōnin would jokingly call a career genin—those genin who struggle to get promoted and eventually manage to get promoted to career chūnin with village restriction—but it strikes Kakashi as odd that he doesn’t recall seeing him around.

“Haruno Sakura,” Sakura’s as polite as ever, bowing her head, and Kakashi wonders if he imagines the way Kabuto’s dark eyes flicker to Sasuke’s face in the instant that Sakura’s eyes are down.

Judging by the way Sasuke tenses even more, Kakashi guesses that he didn’t.

Kabuto looks from Sakura to Naruto before returning his gaze to Sasuke, but neither boy seems willing to introduce themselves. Kakashi isn’t sure how to feel about the way Naruto is outright scowling at the boy, nor the stony silence that seems to have swallowed up his usual boisterous attitude. Normally, Kakashi would have expected Naruto to speak up, or even try to befriend the older boy, so he’s a little thrown by the way Naruto and Sasuke seem to rally together in an impressive display of defiance.

“I’m Hatake Kakashi,” he finally speaks up, eye curved into a smile with an edge that he hopes Kabuto is able to pick up on. Kakashi’s not going to risk it, he decides—if all three of his kids feel uneasy with this boy around, Kakashi is going to do as he instructed them and listen to _their_ instincts. As his sensei had tried to do for them, Kakashi uses his name as a sort of brand, blanketing his name and reputation across the three of them like a shield. He’s going to make sure that his kids never forget that he’s _their_ sensei, and that while the three of them are watching out for one another, Kakashi will be there to watch out for all of them, too.

All three of them relax and he smiles, ruffling the boys’ hair before resting his hand on Sakura’s shoulder, so tight with tension that Kakashi’s actually minutely worried she’s going to snap under the pressure.

“I see,” Kabuto seems a little shocked at his display, making Kakashi silently chuckle with glee. He lives for catching people off guard, after all. A tense silence seems to stretch on for several moments before Kabuto clears his throat, scratching sheepishly at his cheek with his index finger before gesturing to the dark maroon scroll sitting next to Sakura’s bowl. Kakashi isn’t alone in being caught off-guard by its presence, since both Sasuke and Naruto’s head snap to look at the scroll when he points it out. “Well, I stopped because of that—you see, I’m a medic… er, well, I suppose I’m more of a nurse, really. Are you interested in the medical field, Sakura-san?”

_That’s_ Haruno _-san to you,_ Kakashi almost snaps, but he’s more focused on the scroll than he is on listening to Sakura’s reply or reprimanding the boy’s familiarity with his only female student. Kakashi is swamped with a mixture of old grief and nostalgia—he remembers Rin, so bright and happy, hands aglow with emerald light—but he’s also filled with a sense of pride as he catches Sakura glance up at him and smile before she turns her attention back to Kabuto. He’d only mentioned it once in passing that she had the chakra control most medics would kill for, but it never ceases to make his chest fill with warmth when his kids display how much they value his opinions and input

“—sensei says I have pretty good chakra control.” The sound of Sakura’s voice snaps Kakashi’s awareness back to her, and he sees the way she’s nervously fidgeting with her fingers in her lap as she says it. Good? As if any one of _his_ students could be described as only _good_.

The way she downplays her own strengths is just offensive.

“Sakura-chan has the best chakra control ever!” Naruto boasts, wrapping an arm around Sakura’s shoulders and pulling her close to him. Sasuke shifts closer to the blonde as well, their movements totally in sync with one another, and Kakashi nearly bursts with pride when he realises his boys are presenting a united front. They’re basically screaming _look at us_ without overshadowing Sakura, perhaps even more aware than Kakashi himself of her fragile self-view.

“Sakura is easily the strongest kunoichi of our generation,” Sasuke adds with a smooth nod, not even acknowledging Sakura’s sharp intake of breath at the praise, instead keeping his disinterested stare locked onto Kabuto’s face. Kakashi wonders if Sasuke truly means it as a compliment for Sakura, or if he’s just insulting the other kunoichi of their graduating class. He wonders if Sakura is having the same doubts. “My team is _not_ weak.”

Kakashi grins and leans his hip against the counter, a gleeful expression plastered in place that carefully masks his watchful stare on Kabuto’s reactions. This time he knows he isn’t imagining the way the gears seem to be turning in Kabuto’s head, nor the way Kabuto seems to be looking at Sakura with a new sort of light in his eyes. He knows he’s not the only one who sees _blatant interest_ flicker in the depths of Kabuto’s gaze as he looks between his students, eyes lingering on Sasuke longer than the others.

Kakashi’s going to inquire about him, that’s for damn sure.

“I see!” Kabuto’s recovery is completely flawless, and Kakashi narrows his eyes as he regards the young man. Either he’s one hell of an actor, or the boy really is being genuine—and after having been a shinobi his entire life, well, Kakashi doesn’t believe _that_ for even a second. “Well, Sakura-san, if you decide to apprentice, you should let me know! I’d love to give you some pointers for your exams!”

“Thank you, I’ll keep that in mind,” Sakura murmurs politely, offering a small smile when Kabuto pays for his bowl and leaves with another friendly wave. No one says anything else as he goes, and Kakashi stares after him for several tense seconds before:

“Okay,” Naruto says with a loud sigh, practically melting into a boneless heap against the counter. Sasuke and Sakura share a long-suffering glance over his head. “On a scale of one to ten, how suspicious was _that_ guy?”

Kakashi absolutely loves these kids.

* * *

**May 10th **996**  — Konohagakure**

It’s only after about a month and a half passes that the Hokage assigns them another mission outside of the village.

Kakashi had been adamant that perhaps the kids needed more time—Sakura especially, because Kakashi could _see_ the way she wore trauma around her eyes like the kohl she used to line them with—but the Hokage hadn’t seen it his way despite how Sasuke’s fists shook in his pockets, or how Naruto’s confident smile had seemed so strained that it would fall apart if a breeze had blown through the office. He hadn’t seen it Kakashi’s way even when Sakura had gone a few noticeable shades paler, a slight tremble the only indicator that something was amiss behind the carefully blank expression she’d plastered on her face.

_It should be easy,_ the Hokage had told them, his words hollow in Kakashi’s ears as he remembered the escort mission and the promise of an easy pay-day from it. The mission seemed painless enough: a courier mission to a small township about two days out from Konoha. _It doesn’t even pass into enemy territory,_ the Hokage had assured them with that same friendly smile that Kakashi had come to rely on throughout his life.

Nothing in life ever comes easy, and it’s on this cut-and-dry mission that his students make their first kill.

They’d been separated—a duo of experienced shinobi whose faces Kakashi vaguely recognised from the bingo books working to keep the notorious Copy Nin from his students. Kakashi doesn’t think twice about using his chidori the first chance he gets, doesn’t hesitate for even a moment before ramming his fist through the man’s chest and making a mad dash for his students. It’s like Wave for him all over again, and everything in him is screaming for him to _hurry_ , to not fail them again. _Minato-sensei,_ he finds himself pleading with the ghosts lining the walls of his heart, _please lend me your strength._

Kakashi finds them together, backs pressed against one another in the defensive formation he’d taught them, their enemy lying motionless on the ground not even five feet from them. Sakura’s face is streaked crimson, a weeping cut across her temple steadily dripping down her cheek, and for a moment he mistakes the blood smeared all over her forearm as a glove, a blood-stained kunai clutched in her shaking fingers. Naruto’s front is drenched in blood and he has bruises shaped like fingers around his neck, a few openly bleeding cuts on his cheeks… but it’s Sasuke’s appearance that tells Kakashi more than enough about what happened in his absence.

Sasuke stares back at Kakashi with a completely blank expression, white shorts splattered with blood and his trembling fist wrapped around a still-dripping kunai, twin sharingan eyes rapidly spinning as he struggles to come down from the battle high.

Guilt nearly swallows him whole at the sight, but years of ANBU have hardened Kakashi enough to keep him from falling apart at the seams in the field. Pushing back the horrible realisation that he’d once again failed the three of them, Kakashi moves to verify the corpse of their enemy without uttering a word. The way they all relax at the sight of him makes something twist painfully in his chest and Kakashi works his jaw, anger coursing through his veins as he flips their attacker over. A small glimmer of pride lights up somewhere deep within him when he sees the wounds on the body—a slashed throat, swift despite the clear hesitation marks at the beginning of the cut, along with a nasty looking gut wound that he can clearly identify as the result of Sakura's enhanced strength and a kunai. He has to admit he’s impressed, even if part of him is disgusted with himself for feeling that way.

He has to remind himself that he didn’t fail them alone—the system of Konoha is flawed. He knows it even if he doesn’t acknowledge it, even if his loyalty never wavers, and he knows that Sakura was unprepared because no one pushed her to try harder, no one warned her about the ugliness of the world or spoke to her upon seeing her obviously misplaced priorities. No one took care of Naruto, leaving him ostracized by his village, feared and looked at with disgust, hardly able to even feed himself without the kindness of someone not blinded by memories of a dark night in history. Sasuke was left alone in that compound, with the ghosts of his family to haunt him, and even if he was treated with high esteem, awed glances and fangirls didn’t ebb the quaking in his palms or the blood-caked memories that coated his dreams.

He was a child who struggled with the trauma of a war he was more than prepared for, and here he is trying to care for three children who hadn’t even been told to consider the war.

“There’s a river about two miles northeast,” Kakashi tells them as he works on sealing the body into a scroll, hands moving methodically, eyes focused unseeingly at his work. The three of them are all so quiet that he feels like his voice is an explosion between them, and he nearly cringes at the sheer volume of his normal speaking voice in the middle of the vacuum this situation has seemingly created. Guilt crawls along his skin, pricks at his neck, and he stands on aching knees. “We’ll camp nearby there.”

None of them voice their confirmation, but Kakashi can’t blame them for their reactions either. They hadn’t actually killed Haku or Zabuza in Wave, hadn’t landed the killing blow on an enemy—they’d only watched, really. It’s different when you actually take part in ending someone’s life, when you go from observer to executioner. He also knows everyone handles their first kills differently, has seen reactions from all across the spectrum of possibilities, so Kakashi mentally prepares himself for anything as he leads the three of them at a sedate pace to the river that marks their halfway point on their journey home.

The moment they begin setting up camp, Sasuke vanishes toward the water. Kakashi keeps an eye trained on him even as he turns to his other students to assess the situation, and his eyes finally fall on Naruto who drops his pack and then sits down with a soft wheeze that sounds like a mixture of a sob and a disbelieving chuckle. His expression is unbearable to look at, an absent mask with a haunted half smile that doesn’t really reach his eyes, lips trembling as if he might cry. Kakashi is used to this one—masking their pain with humour before the tears come. Gai had done the same after his first kill in the field.

A glance toward Sasuke reminds him again too much of himself—the boy is scrubbing at himself so hard his skin is red and raw beneath his fingers, his shoulders so tense that Kakashi’s own back aches just by looking at it. Trained ears can’t pick up even the slightest sound from the sole Uchiha, and Kakashi knows that Sasuke’s wearing the very same mask he’d adopted after the massacre of his family. Kakashi knows the numbness well, and knows that Sasuke will take this experience and bury it so deep that it will never see the light of day again if he can help it.

Meanwhile, Sakura is… frozen, it seems. Shell-shocked and in a daze, staring forward at absolutely nothing, her expression totally blank and uncomprehending.

He’s not nearly emotionally equipped to handle this, but Kakashi knows that he still has to. That they need him to. So, with a soft sigh, Kakashi fixes the last trip-wire hidden amidst the underbrush and moves to Naruto’s side, patting his head in much the same fashion he usually does to Sakura. The blonde looks up to him with a clearly confused gaze and follows diligently when Kakashi moves him toward the water, a little ways down from Sasuke. His plan of attack is simple: Naruto first, then Sasuke, and then he’ll try to deal with Sakura.

“We really let that guy have it, huh, Kaka-sensei?” Naruto laughs unsteadily, a hitch in his voice and his smile wavering. Kakashi can already see tears misting up in his eyes as he sits Naruto down and eases his hands into the chill of the river, rubbing them together to wash away the splatter of blood coating his hands. “It was… it was awesome, d-dattebayo… we were so cool, and—”

“Naruto.” Kakashi is swift to cut him off, reaching out to run his wet fingers across the already mending slashes on the younger boy’s cheeks. It’s painful to watch Naruto, bright and sunny Naruto, fall to pieces this way. His fake smile hurts Kakashi’s heart even more than the tears had when Zabuza had died, like glass splintering in his chest. “It’s okay to cry, Naruto. It’s _okay_.”

Naruto’s soft sobs and apologies stuck with him even as he moved to Sasuke’s side, standing behind him as the boy cleaned. He watches as Sasuke muscles wind tighter and tighter, his movements jerky and uncertain, and Kakashi knows without a doubt that he’s making Sasuke spiral even moreso than he already was just by standing close to him. Had anyone stood with Sasuke while he grieved his parents? Had anyone been by his side? Naruto’s soft weeping, muffled by the stream, has Kakashi leaning toward a solid no.

“What do you want?” Sasuke finally snaps, looking back at Kakashi with an expression so raw that it catches him off guard.

“I just wanted to say… good job.” It would be insensitive to anyone else, he reasons upon seeing the way Sasuke’s shoulders droop and the ferocious light leaves his eyes. Sasuke doesn’t need soft words and hands in his hair like Naruto does—he needs to know that he did the right thing, that he’s still better than _Itachi_ , and Kakashi is more than willing to remind him of that fact. Sasuke is opening up to them, to all of them, but coddling him would only serve to make Sasuke clam up once again. “You did well, Sasuke.”

He leaves both boys at their respective places at the stream, then—one still sniffling softly into his sleeves and the other scrubbing a little less violently than before—so that he can finally deal with the last and probably most fragile piece of their team. Sakura is still exactly where he left her, one hand scratching absently at the drying blood all over her arm, vague eyes staring ahead in a way he’s witnessed several times before. She’s shut down just like she did with Zabuza, it seems. _It sounds as if she’s d_ _issociating_ , Inoichi had told him upon Kakashi’s description of her symptoms, _which means that in an effort to protect herself from the stress and trauma of what she’s endured, her mind is essentially detaching from reality._

Inoichi had stressed that perhaps Sakura needed to speak to a specialist, and Kakashi decides as he coaxes Sakura to the water that he might have to force mandatory sessions for all three of them in the wake of this mission. He pulls her even farther down than the boys, stepping calf-deep in the water without even hesitating, and urges her to sit so that he can wash the blood from her arm first. Though her eyes on on their hands, he can tell she’s not really looking _at_ them, and with a lurch in his chest Kakashi brings a hand to her hair in the same affectionate gesture she’d once hated, hoping to pull her back to reality with a delicate nudge.

“Sakura…” Kakashi murmurs, eye curling into a smile as she blinks and looks up at him, seemingly confused but undeniably here in the present instead of retreating. She looks so small, so lost, and Kakashi finds himself cursing every teacher that saw she was so unprepared—that they all were—and let these children become soldiers anyway. “You protected your teammates, didn’t you? That’s good. You did _good_ , Sakura.”

As if he’d spoken the magic words, the tears begin to fall from her eyes… and with the most heart-wrenching wail he has ever heard in his life, Sakura throws her arms around him to convey more gratitude that Kakashi will probably ever know.

* * *

**July 1st **996**  — Konohagakure**

It’s only been nearly two months since that terrible mission—and still only three months since the absolute disaster that was their mission to Wave—and yet Kakashi can’t help but feel like it’s been ages.

The growth that his little genin have shown hasn’t been lost on him, especially not since their mandatory “shrink sessions,” as Naruto had called them. Sasuke has edged his way out of his grief-laden shell with time, has become rather protective of both his teammates despite his perpetual annoyed expression he wears, and he’s been actively working with his teammates to strengthen not only himself but them as well. Naruto has been working hard on his studies and his expressions, having taken up with Sasuke to learn how to mask his reactions and stop wearing his heart on his sleeve during missions. _(Kakashi hopes Naruto doesn’t wear the mask all the time, but he’s sure that the others feel the same, because they make sure he stays just as rambunctious as usual.)_ They’ve both come so far in their taijutsu and their ninjutsu, as well as their teamwork, and Kakashi is willing to admit to anyone who will listen just how proud he is of them.

But it is Sakura who has come the farthest, and Kakashi can’t lie and say he’d ever expected much of anything out of her. He’d expected her to call it quits after Wave, after seeing her staring at the graves and very clearly having a dissociative episode right there in front of him. He’d seen the signs—the flashbacks, the nightmares, the way she’d cringed from everyone those first few nights—and he’d wondered if perhaps Haruno Sakura just wasn’t made for the life of a shinobi. Perhaps she’d gracefully step back, rejoin her civilian clan, and do something more suited to a girl with hair like the cherry blossoms and eyes and vivid as the rolling hills of Konoha. Maybe open a bakery…

Instead, he’d found her meditating and actively trying to improve herself. Kakashi had found her passed out on more than one occasion during the last leg of their stay in Wave, and he’s brought her home from the training grounds more than she probably knows. He’s met her parents quite a few times, now—she’d probably not like that, not at all—because he’s had to drop her off at home after seeing her work herself into such exhaustion that she passes out in the middle of the field. He’s seen her walk on trees before either of her teammates. He’s watched her pick up water walking faster than even he himself had ever managed to learn it. Kakashi has seen her teach herself how to properly throw something as tricky as senbon, has seen her stock her own kits with everything the Academy taught her—and then some more, if those storage scrolls are anything to go by—and has seen her teach the boys more than he had at the time. She learned her own katas, worked on her own taijutsu using clones, had scarred her poor knuckles and legs to hell and back to crawl her way to her teammates’ level.

Haruno Sakura isn’t from a prestigious clan; she has no name or title to fall back on, she had no child-prodigy brother to help her train. She has no blood-limit, no family to push her, no expectations on her shoulders. She’s not the Kyūbi jinchūriki. She has small chakra reserves, an eidetic memory, and a brain that works way faster than even the Hatake Genius can boast. Her biggest strength is her mind and her perfect chakra control, which is more subtle of a gift than her two teammates, something that gets her looked over more often than not, but Haruno Sakura is not a kunoichi to be taken lightly.

Sakura has no handicaps. She has nothing. Haruno Sakura is where she is because of her stubbornness, her strength of will. Not because of Kakashi, not because of her teammates—she did this _all_ on her own.

He can’t help but feel a little hurt at that. He hadn’t helped her along at all.

The worst part, though, is that Kakashi _knows_ if Sakura could hear him thinking this, she’d shout and scream and hurl logs at him to make him listen to her. She’s got a kind of terrifying temper on her despite the almost endless patience she has for her team, one that’s hidden behind sweet smiles and a petite frame with the most disarming colouring possible. One minute she’s all gentle touches and softly spoken inspirational words, the next she’s got her fist down Naruto’s throat and is making threats that promise Naruto will never procreate if she has her way. Sakura adores him, looks up to him and gets onto Sasuke for not calling him _sensei_. She scolds the boys for not being respectful and she always seems to know when his mind isn’t in the present, when he sees black hair over Naruto’s blonde, and she’s always quick to thank him for teaching her even the smallest of things. Every time Sakura’s learned a new technique or is interested in learning something, she comes to Kakashi as if for approval, for help, and slowly but surely Naruto and Sasuke have begun to do the exact same. He had never truly felt like a genuine _teacher_ to these kids until she’d basically forced him into the role… and, he has to admit, he kind of loves it.

“What’s up, Kaka-sensei?” Naruto’s voice snaps him out of his reverie, bringing Kakashi’s mind back to the here and now. Naruto’s head is sticking out of the ground and Sasuke is gloating from his crouch nearby, though the raven haired boy is definitely panting from exhaustion. Sakura is a little ways away, and Kakashi can’t help but beam as he realises she’s covered in dirt and sweating because she’s finally succeeded in using _Doton: Shinjū Zanshu no Jutsu_ on her teammate. Pride warms his heart. _He_ taught her that. Sakura flashes him a v for victory, Sasuke’s smirk is closer to a grin than Kakashi’s really ever seen it, and Kakashi can’t help but throw them a thumbs up in return to them both.

He loves these kids.

“I’ve recommended you three to take the Chūnin Exams,” he tells them with a smile, the edges sharp with worry. He’d been reluctant—something is brewing beneath these exams, something big, and the Hokage is obviously on edge—but Kakashi had caved and signed the three of them up after he’d realised they’d throw a fit over not having the chance. They’ve been training so hard that they deserve a shot at a promotion, even if a selfish piece of Kakashi wants them to stay his little genin team for just a while longer. Forever, preferably, but he can’t even acknowledge that to himself.

“What’s that?” Naruto asks, wriggling as Sakura and Sasuke both pull him up from his little hole in the ground. Naruto’s grateful smile is so happy and bright that Kakashi considers investing in sunglasses, both to hide his definitely _manly_ tears and to keep him from going blind from it all. God, they’re just so cute—

“Chūnin is the next rank for us,” Sakura explains to her blonde teammate, ever the walking textbook, as she brushes loose dirt and pebbles from his shoulders. Kakashi looks up at the sky and holds up his hands in silent thanks for the Gods being so forgiving and giving him a mini-teacher to take half the work off of him. Sakura pointedly ignores his theatrics. “The exams are how we try to get promoted—this is the first time in a while we’ve hosted them in Konoha. Right, sensei?”

“That’s right!” Kakashi ruffles her hair, raising an eyebrow at the kunai that’s tied up in her bun. Did his cute little genin booby-trap her _hair_? Yikes. “You three have been working hard, so I decided my cute little genin deserved the chance for a promotion!”

“But aren’t we supposed to be genin for at least a year before we can take it?” Sasuke pipes up, head tilted silently as he trades glances with his teammates. They’re practically speaking with their _eyes_ , Oh, they’re adorable. Kakashi can’t handle it.

“That’s a recommendation, not a regulation.” Kakashi tells them with no small amount of glee, watching as plans flick around Sakura’s face so quickly that it actually alarms him a little. He watches as her fingers twitch against Naruto’s wrist, watches as Naruto’s elbow connects with Sasuke’s and then slides in a motion that looks so genuine it catches Kakashi off guard, and when he sees recognition flare in Sasuke’s eyes, Kakashi realises with a jolt just what he’d watched in front of him.

He takes it back. They’re not adorable… they’re little _monsters_.

“My cute little genin have their own code and didn’t _tell me?_ ”

Sakura squeaks and stumbles back as if she’s been burned, Naruto squawks like some sort of dying bird and drops like a rock, and Sasuke literally chokes on his own spit. It’d be absolutely hilarious to watch if Kakashi weren’t so offended by this blatant _betrayal_. Crossing his arms and putting on his best pout, Kakashi aims for the weakest link in the chain.

He points the full force of his hurt expression at Sakura.

Both boys groan, knowing it’s a lost cause before the battle had even begun, and Kakashi almost cackles in glee at the way Sakura’s lip trembles up at him. He’d feel bad if it weren’t for the fact that he knows she would have taught him anyway—he’s just caught on early to how they’ve been coordinating their attacks so skillfully during team sparring sessions. Sneaky little _brat_.

“Okay, Kakashi-sensei… here’s how it works—”

The rest of their afternoon training is spent with them explaining their rather complex system to him, and Kakashi outright lets them know he’s impressed with all three of them—both for the creation of such a brilliantly devious code _(Sakura)_ and the clever implementation of it in the form of touch instead of solely verbal cues to remain unnoticed _(shockingly, this was entirely Naruto’s idea)_ —as they mull over what else to cover for the afternoon. After all, it’s their day to eat out at Ichiraku, and Naruto’s excitement has them all rushing along the streets as soon as there’s nothing else to claim as training.

“Kakashi-sensei…?”

“Hm?” Kakashi turns on his heel and slips Icha Icha into its delegated pouch on his hip, eyebrow raised in question at his favourite little student. Sakura looks so unsure and bashful that he actually feels a little alarmed, wondering what happened to set her off on another downward spiral so quickly. She’d been in such high spirits all day. “What’s wrong, Sakura-chan?”

“Do you…” She swallows and averts her eyes like she’s in pain, little fists trembling by her sides, and Kakashi actually _scowls_ behind his mask. He knew from the get-go that Wave would leave scars on all of them, but he wishes that it hadn’t left such glaring wounds, open and weeping and festering, on his only female student. He doesn’t know how to help, how to point out that she’s here and safe and that she’s single-handedly helped their team in more ways than he, their teacher, could have ever hoped to. Her therapist had said they were making progress, but had warned it was going slow and that she needed more time. Kakashi doesn't like not knowing how to help.

Kakashi waits for her to continue, but she remains silent. “Do I what, Sakura?”

“Do you think I’m really ready? For… for the Chūnin Exams?”

She doesn’t ask if the _team_ is ready. She’s not doubting Naruto or Sasuke at all. Kakashi realises with a start that Sakura has been making all these strides to catch up and help her teammates without seeing, without realising for even a second, that she’s become such a reliable and competent kunoichi that Kakashi’s been making bets on her for a month now. He’s even _won_ those bets. Asuma’s literally going to skin him alive one day. She has no idea the progress she’s made simply because she’s constantly belittling herself and holding herself accountable for things she can’t control.

Sighing to himself, Kakashi reaches forward to press his palm against her hair, smiling softly at the way she flushes and glances up at him through her lashes. She looks so hopeful and yet so ashamed at the same time that Kakashi thinks she may have well just gutted him with the kunai in her hair and called it a day.

“Sakura-chan, I wouldn’t have suggested it to you if I didn’t think you were—all _three_ of you have to agree to be allowed to participate. I wouldn’t leave you out just for Naruto and Sasuke—they’d never forgive me, and I’d never forgive myself. What’s our motto?”

“All of us or none of us.” Sakura smiles.

“And don’t you forget it.” So does he.

“Will you help me with my genjutsu, then?” Kakashi laughs and she beams up at him, little hand slipping into his own, and Kakashi wonders when they went from just annoying brats to _his_ annoying brats. He doesn’t let go of her hand the entire walk to the ramen stand.

“Mah… I think I have time.”

* * *

**July 2nd **996**  — Konohagakure**

“Kaka-sensei! I wanna do that thing too!” Naruto points accusingly at Sakura as she shunshins across the clearing, moving around to try and deflect the kunai that Kakashi leisurely throws in random directions. It’s good practice for her, he reasons, even if Naruto and Sasuke are gaping and accusing him of child abuse with their eyes.

She’s only missed four and gotten hit with a glancing blow like three times, what’s the big deal?

“You need better chakra control, dobe.”

“You can’t do it either, teme!”

“Boys, boys,” Kakashi mutters with a roll of his eyes, totally not wincing when his shuriken catches Sakura’s calf before she flickers away to deflect a senbon. _Nice_. “You two have your physical strength and wider variety of jutsu to use—Sakura-chan here needed _speed_. She’s got to be able to get in, execute your strategies, and get out.”

“I mean, I guess… but, do you really _have_ to throw that stuff at her?”

“Just because she can augment her body to move faster and be able to register what she sees at that speed doesn’t mean her reaction time is up to par. Sakura can be fast all she likes, but if she can’t react fast enough, she could still get hit.”

“Which is why we’re supposed to be in the front lines, dobe. We draw our enemies attention and Sakura watches our backs.”

“Exactly. Now, Sasuke, go after Naruto with everything you have—Naruto, focus on dodging and deflecting.”

The two explode into a flurry of motion, and Kakashi isn’t at all surprised to see Sakura stop nearby with a look of mild concern on her face. Really, the way she worries after all of them is quite cute—Kakashi’s glad that his spiel about teamwork seems to have resounded so strongly in Sakura, not that he thinks for even a moment that it hasn’t struck quite the cord in the boys, though. He’s simple proud to have passed on that message to her.

“Wanna work on your _Magen: Narakumi no Jutsu?_ ” Kakashi slides his gaze to her and smirks, hands already forming the seal even as he smiles at her. She’s clever, he’ll give her that. _Too_ clever. He’s taught her well, it’d seem. “Kai.”

“What gave it away, Kakashi-sensei?”

He glances to Sakura, who is now sitting on his other side, staring up at him with an expectant gaze and a little knowing smirk on her lips. She’s officially been around Sasuke _too long_ , he decides, fingers sliding back into their seal as he rolls his eyes heavenward. He’s going to have a long talk with Minato-sensei later about why it’s not fair to exact his revenge from beyond the grave using a pink-haired monster, the final Uchiha boy, and his own son.

“Kai.”

He looks down and sees all three of his students directly in front of him. Sakura is positively beaming, hands behind her back and looking quite proud of herself, while Naruto is smiling at her with his hand on her shoulder and Sasuke grins up at him, arms crossed and body angled towards Sakura.

She’d caught him in a secondary illusion without him even noticing.

“ _Magen: Nijū Kokoni Arazu no Jutsu,_ ” Sakura announces with a tiny squee of pleasure, bouncing on the tips of her toes and practically _vibrating_ with ill-concealed glee. She looks so proud of herself and _Kakashi’s_ so proud of her and damn it, he’s going all soft and mushy in his chest. This is unacceptable. Who gave his students the right to be so great? He doesn’t deserve them.

“Mah, Sakura-chan… were you seriously worried about the Chūnin Exams?” Kakashi asks with a smile, reaching out to ruffle her hair. “Because from where I’m standing, no one stands a _chance_ against you three.”

* * *

**July 27th **996**  — Konohagakure**

The boys can officially walk on water. This is great.

Kakashi is now making all three of the spar on water. This is _hilarious_.

He’s trying _so very hard_ not to outright laugh the third time Sasuke plummets into the water after Kakashi catches him off guard with a spinning kick aimed for his face. He barely chokes down a laugh when he scares Naruto so bad that he flies face-first into the water with a scream. Hell, just to make her feel included, Kakashi literally hurls Sakura in at least once and struggles valiantly not to laugh at her betrayed expression as she spits water from her mouth and pushes her dripping fringe from her eyes.

He’s having fun. Loads of it, even. He’s really enjoying what the three of them are calling the _Month From Hell_ , the month of preparation that they have before the Chūnin Exams begin. Though they only have four days left now, Kakashi still intends to make full use of their time left together before he hands off his precious students, lets them out of his probably less than capable hands, and has to wait and watch as they prove themselves to the rest of the village.

Kakashi doesn’t doubt them as they are now, not in the slightest, but he wants to give them the most solid of foundations that he can before they go. Taijutsu is their focus now. It’s Naruto’s weakest point, if only because the boy lacks any kind of technique—he just chooses to instead basically hurl himself head-first into every fight, _literally_ with his head if he’s allowed to. Sasuke is by far the strongest between the three of them, and he’s helped Sakura immensely with her dodging and reaction time.

Naruto and Sasuke have greatly improved their chakra control, but they’re still no where near Sakura’s level—and with only a few days to keep working like this, Kakashi is simply remaining hopeful that there won’t be too much combat on water or trees.

“Thirty-seven!” Sakura bellows from somewhere to his left. On instinct, Kakashi looks to her. A mistake.

He dodges Sasuke’s swipe with a kunai and jumps back just as the Uchiha pivots sharply on his foot, swinging out with his leg in an attempt to clip Kakashi’s side. Kakashi draws out a kunai just as Naruto comes flying at him, but Naruto ducks under his swipe and swings his arm in an upward arc, attacking Kakashi’s weapon to knock it out of his hand. His grip is loosened and Kakashi actually stumbles back a single step in surprise, eye wide.

“Now!”

As if by Naruto’s command, Sakura’s suddenly there, her foot planted on Naruto’s shoulder and hauling herself up and over with a kick swinging toward Kakashi’s face. He dips and strikes out to punch Sakura in the stomach, a swift reminder that she’s left herself wide open, but he pulls back just as she twists in the air and Sasuke’s own fist strikes out to block. it’s like the three of them move in perfect synchronisation as Naruto barrels forward, a predictable fist aimed for Kakashi’s stomach—but before Kakashi can respond, Sasuke’s on him, hands around Kakashi’s wrist and then—

And then Sakura literally _headbutts_ him and he goes under.

Kakashi stays under the water for several long seconds, staring up at the sunlight rippling above his head, wondering just when his kids had gotten so good at working together. He and Obito had been an amazing team together by the end of things, but even still… the two of them didn’t work quite this well, like a well-oiled machine. His kids fought like they’d been together for decades, not just a few months. Pride burns in his chest as Kakashi’s head breaks the surface, blinking away the water and leveling all three of them with his most unimpressed stare. He maintains the expression despite the warm smile hidden beneath the mask, despite how warm their jubilant cheers and laughter make him feel.

Yeah. These kids are gonna do just fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **12/31/18:** Just in time for the new year! Sorry this rewrite took so long, I absolutely added another important scene here and there, and I got whisked away by the characters. I hope I more properly conveyed Kakashi’s view on Sakura, as well as his team, and on the system in place in Konoha and how it trains its upcoming shinobi. (Hint: he hates it as much as I do.)
> 
> I’ve had a particular reviewer claim I was holding Sakura accountable for things she didn’t do, and so I wish to stress _one more time_ that just because Sakura views herself this way **does NOT** mean anyone else does. She is holding herself accountable and I do promise a wake-up call coming in the near future. She needs someone to make her realise not everything is her fault, but this is a natural stage of grief.
> 
> The original word count on this chapter was 5,662. This revision’s word count is now 9,555.
> 
> Thank you for reading.


	4. now i live a waking life

**August**   **1st 996** **—** **Konohagakure**

Sakura has been standing in front of her mirror for a solid fifteen minutes, unable to pull her eyes from her reflection for the first time since the day Team Seven had left for Wave. Unlike then, however, she struggles not because of vanity, but because of the genuinely pleased surprise that thrills through her system at the sight of herself, haloed by the morning sunlight streaming in through her window and practically glowing for the first time in her entire life. Sakura cannot remember a time she’d felt this good about herself, not since the day she’d met her very first friend who had tied her hair back and called her beautiful.

The difference in her appearance is absolutely startling—and if it’s this shocking to her, Sakura’s absolutely certain everyone else will be just as surprised at the sudden change. Feeling a sudden rush of warm appreciation for Kakashi-sensei, Sakura tilts her head and drags her eyes across her new gear, pivoting on her heels to see herself from every possible angle. Absently her fingers run over her pouches and holsters, making sure they’re properly fastened and filled for probably the fifth time this morning, and Sakura peers back at her bright-eyed reflection with a small smile on her lips. As where a few months ago would have had her despairing over how _unfashionable_ and _unflattering_ her new outfit is, Sakura is now grateful for the easily camouflaged colour scheme and the range of movement and comfort it offers. Ino would probably have a fit over how the colours do nothing for her complexion or her hair, but Sakura is grateful that she’ll stick out just a little less this way.

Gone is her cute little red qipao-style dress ( _and she misses the red terribly, she does, because it’s her favourite colour)_ and dark spandex shorts, instead replaced by what Kakashi-sensei had insisted on calling their new team uniform: a dark blue sleeveless turtleneck top over a mesh-armour shirt and dark grey shorts that reach about mid-way down her thighs, all made from the same heavy-duty material that Sakura recognises from the standard-issue Konoha jōnin attire. Her fingers brush over the coarse texture of her shorts as a fond smile pulls at her lips. Kakashi-sensei hadn’t been very amused with her pleading for the shorts instead of the pants, his expression wholly deadpan as he stared right back at her most effective puppy eyes, but he hadn’t said no or stopped her from adding a few pairs of the shorts to their growing collection of purchases.

_(She’d argued it was for ease of movement, but she’s sure he knows it’s just because it’s one small claim of her femininity she can still make, and Kakashi-sensei doesn’t seem willing to deny her that.)_

Kakashi-sensei had acknowledged that her outfit was already different from the boys’, since he’d given her a pair of sturdy charcoal boots with a slight, chunky heel that came up to just below her knee. He’d justified his choice by their utility despite the questioning way she’d examined the heel, pointing out that not only the tops of the boots are lined with several small pouches full of senbon and shuriken, but the front and back of them being covered by slabs of dull, worn plates of thick armour. After they’d made all of their purchases yesterday, Kakashi-sensei had taught her how to fasten their leather straps properly as to keep them from jostling or making noise as she runs, and he’d been gleeful that she’d noted with no short amount of surprise that the weight wasn’t as much as she’d feared. He’d also compensated for her shorts by giving her another set of leg-plates for her thighs, much to her leg muscles’ protests, but Kakashi-sensei had seemed pleased with the extra protection despite her half-hearted whining. Another difference from her teammates, he’d told her, was that he’d given her matching fingerless gloves that reached below the elbow, plated just like her boots.

Sakura’s favourite part of the entire ensemble has to be the harness and pouch system, which her sensei had practically preened under her praise for once he’d demonstrated it to her. Kakashi-sensei’s logic had been that his team needed to retain her mobility, especially in Sakura’s case as the physically weakest link, but they still needed to be able to be prepared with plenty of supplies—thus, his solution had been to equip his three genin with black leather harnesses of sorts. The harness consists of thick straps of leather stretching across her chest and winding around her shoulders, wrapped around her upper arms and stomach before it connects to the leather belt fastened around her waist. The leather straps are lined with numerous pouches, each of which she’s spent hours memorising the contents of so that she’ll be able to instinctively grab whatever she needs in a pinch.

Her right arm has two deep holsters, one for kunai and the other for senbon, while her left arm has a pouch for gauze and another with several medical emergency necessities like sterilised needles, threads, and countless herbs and balms to be applies to cuts and burns. Her belt is lined with trap-making kits—several lengths of wire, a literal fortune of explosive tags courtesy of Kakashi-sensei, bells, and even a small vial of mild poison that she’d bought herself from the market. Fastened to her back along her belt is a large pack filled with blood pills, soldier pills of the lowest possible grade so that Kakashi-sensei doesn’t have a coronary, and several food pills. On her legs, fastened to the sides of her leg-plates, are additional kunai and senbon holsters—she’d almost argued this was overkill, but Kakashi-sensei’s eerie smile as he’d handed them to her had halted any protests from leaving her lips.

Dragging her eyes up from her outfit, Sakura’s gaze finally settles on the one thing she and Kakashi-sensei had disagreed on: her hair. It was her final vanity, and even though Kakashi-sensei had gently explained that perhaps she’d be better off cutting it—even just temporarily—Sakura still cannot bring herself to cut it. Sure, she’s thought about it—the distance she’s put between herself now and who she’s been is like a canyon, and more than once she’s woken from a nightmare and wanted to take a pair of scissors to her long locks, but something seems to stay her hand every time. Is it Ino, the friendship that she’d never realised she needed until it was already gone? Is it simply that her hair is the last shred of herself she can make a claim to? Despite the shame that burns at her core as she touches her hair, Sakura cannot bring herself to let go of this final piece of Haruno Sakura—the last shred of the girl that had left for that fateful mission in Wave. Despite refusing Kakashi-sensei’s suggestion, though, she’d at least tied her hair up and out of the way, her thick hair piled into a bun at the top of her head with a kunai nestled within like a warning, a single dummy explosive tag dangling down the back of her head like a dare for someone to come close enough.

_(Kakashi-sensei had narrowed his eyes at her for that—“pride is often a shinobi’s greatest downfall, Sakura”—but she thinks it’s clever.)_

“Alright!” Clapping her trembling hands to her cheeks, Sakura snags her hitai-ate from the nearby vanity and ties it in place, making sure her hair still frames it as it gleams proudly from its place on her head. Sakura takes a moment to simply breathe like her therapist instructed her, a long deep inhale before exhaling slowly through her teeth, a sort of calming method to quell the rapid beating of her heart. Her therapist had actually done wonders, really—she’d been hesitant, and not entirely open, but already Sakura has begun finding herself remaining present more and more. It’s been an uphill battle, and she still hasn’t told her therapist just how badly she feels she’d failed her team, but… progress is progress, right?

Opening her eyes again, Sakura smiles at her reflection—small, timid, but sill genuine—and turns on her heel to head downstairs, calling out a goodbye towards the kitchen without stopping.

Her parents had come back from another business trip a week ago, and though her father had been supportive of Sakura’s training, her mother hadn’t seemed thrilled that Sakura was already headed into the exams for a promotion. Kizashi had sworn to his daughter that her mother was proud of her despite it all, but Sakura wonders if Mebuki expected Sakura to resign and join the merchant business with them. After all, Kizashi was a civilian-born man, a man who had never even thought about chakra once in his life, but Mebuki had been on a genin team once. She’d never gotten far, though Sakura only really knows from vague stories her father had used to try and explain Mebuki’s frosty demeanour over her career choice, and eventually she’d turned in her hitai-ate and married Kizashi, settling down to live a much more even-paced life.

Her father calls back, though her mother remains silent, and with a small sigh Sakura closes the door behind herself. She takes off in a light jog, head held high and a giddiness zinging through her veins like lightning, but her trip to the examination centre is relatively uneventful despite it all. A few people seem to do a double-take when they see her—if they even noticed her before now, she’s not quite that vain—but all in all Sakura doesn’t have anyone or anything to stop her from arriving somewhat early, caught staring with clammy palms and wide eyes.

Her boys are waiting for her, much to Sakura’s surprise—all _three_ of them.

Staring at them, Sakura is sure that Naruto was absolutely devastated by the colour change, probably dramatically lamenting the lack of orange in his outfit. Despite the stark contrast to how he’d dressed before, though, Sakura can’t help but smile at how he’d so clearly made his uniform so distinctly _Naruto_ even without his trademark colour palette. He wears the same dark blue turtleneck that Kakashi-sensei wears, his sleeves rolled up over his elbows to reveal a long-sleeved mesh armour shirt underneath. _(Sakura’s amused to see those emblems from the shoulders of his orange jacket are sewn onto this shirt, and she images he’d_ _shouted_ _Kakashi-sensei into submission to do it for him.)_ His dark grey pants are in the same fashion as Kakashi-sensei’s, tucked into bandages wrapped snuggly around his ankles that disappear beneath his dark blue sandals. Like herself, Naruto’s harness is littered with pouches, and Sakura wonders if he’s come up with a method of memorising their contents or if, in true Naruto fashion, he’s going to just wing it.

Sasuke seems completely comfortable in the dark ensemble, and Sakura’s absolutely certain the Uchiha family crest remains sewn on the back of his shirt. His sleeves are rolled up like Naruto’s, but instead of a mesh shirt underneath all Sakura can see is white bandages that wrap all the way down his forearm. The black bands around his wrists tell her he’s wearing weights, hidden beneath his bandages, and Sakura bites back a grin at his cunning use of the uniform’s elements. How very _Sasuke_ of him. He’s wearing dark grey cargo shorts that fall just above his knees, legs bandaged much the same way as Naruto and Kakashi-sensei’s, though she can see the slight raise in the fabric that gives away the presence of hidden leg weights as well. Sakura doesn’t doubt for a second that Sasuke has meticulously organised his numerous pouches along the leather that wraps along his body—especially since she can see his fingers twitch toward his right hip pouch in much the same way he’d always reached for his thigh-holster before.

Seeing the two of them standing side by side with Kakashi-sensei, so obviously waiting for her, causes something in Sakura’s chest to squeeze almost _painfully_. It’s her first time seeing the boys in their new uniforms, and despite how Kakashi-sensei had claimed they’d been difficult about it, Sakura only sees them looking rather proud of themselves as they stand together. They all match—they’re clearly a team, a family, and suddenly she wonders why they hadn’t done this sooner. The four of them had all looked so far apart, with not a single thing tying them together outside of their hitai-ate… but now, they look as if they all belong together.

Like _she_ belongs.

“Ah—! Sakura-chan!” Naruto catches sight of her before the other two, his entire face lighting up like the sun peeking out from behind thick clouds, all warm and bright against Sakura’s skin. Beside him, Kakashi-sensei and Sasuke perk up and turn to look at her, and the three of them each have their own ways of greeting her with only a _look_. Kakashi-sensei’s lone eye is curled up in that unique smile of his, Naruto’s own bright eyes are wide and his smile could keep the world alight even if the sun chose this moment to go out, and even Sasuke’s expression is marginally softer than before.

_(He’s softening up around them, she knows—realising they’re good for him, probably, both emotionally and in combat as well—)_

This is her team. Her _family_. Even after how poorly she’d treated Naruto, how badly she’d failed Sasuke, how little she’d initially tried for Kakashi-sensei, here they are… waiting for her, welcoming her.

“You look amazing, Sakura-chan! Hey… Kakashi-sensei! Why does she get to have cool armour?” Naruto is full of energy, practically overflowing as he bounces around them like an eager puppy, gesturing excitedly to the differences in her outfit with that blinding smile of his reflecting off of every surface within range. He’s still smiling even as he turns to narrow his eyes at their jōnin sensei, pointing an accusatory finger in Kakashi’s face. “Could it be—Kaka-sensei, are you playing _favourites_? For shame!”

“Sakura needs it just in case she’s not fast enough to dodge an enemy, dobe.” Sasuke rolls his eyes and moves to stand on Sakura’s other side of his own accord, his hands in his pockets and head angled away from them, even as his body is angled towards them. Sakura can only stare in a moment of silent awe, her nostalgic mood from this morning still tinging her thoughts—months ago she’d felt like nothing but a burden and Sasuke had been so completely unreachable, but now they stand as equals in his eyes, even if he won’t outwardly say so. The idea brings a small smile to her face, one that seems to bring a small quirk to Sasuke’s own lips when he glances back at her out of the corner of his eye.

“Mah, Naruto… accusing your sensei of playing favourites between his cute little students. I’m hurt.” Kakashi-sensei’s voice and expression are completely deadpan, contradicting his words to the point of hilarity, and Sakura can’t cover her snort of laughter behind her hands fast enough when he bops the top of Naruto’s head with the spine of his little orange book. Naruto and Sasuke stare at her with matching looks of affronted betrayal, but Kakashi-sensei looks indescribably pleased at the sound… and once again, Sakura wonders if perhaps Kakashi-sensei somehow can sense when her thoughts start to take a turn toward darker paths.

“You’re all early…” Sakura manages after a moment, fingertips still pressed to her lips to hide any lingering giggles that try to escape. “We weren’t supposed to meet until ten.”

“Or maybe _you’re_ late,” Kakashi-sensei replies loftily, suddenly behind her with his elbow resting on her head and his little book open once again. She wonders how he so casually avoids the kunai jutting upright in her hair, but after a second thought just brushes the idea off—for all his theatrics and goofball acting, Kakashi-sensei is a legend for a reason. She’d seen him against Zabuza, seen how skilled he was, how skilled Naruto and Sasuke were, and all she could do was _watch_ …

Something hits her square in the forehead and she jumps, eyes wide as her mind snaps back to the here and now. Her shocked gaze lands on Sasuke, glowering at her with his hand still extended and fingers poised with the threat of repeating the action, and Sakura realises with a jolt that he’d just _flicked_ her. Indignant, Sakura’s temper flares to get the better of her, but before she can even open her mouth she’s cut off.

“Stop that.” Naruto’s tone is alarmingly solemn as he stands beside Sasuke, his expression unreadable when compared to the blatant annoyance lining Sasuke’s face. She feels Kakashi shift behind her, his arm leaving her head to instead place a large hand on her shoulder, a comforting gesture that she’s been becoming alarmingly familiar with recently. The way her teammates are staring at her is unnerving, because she hasn’t made Sasuke snap at her for a while now, and Naruto’s _never_ looked at her like that before. What’s their deal?

“We can’t have you doing that.” Sasuke tells her seriously, waving his hand to gesture at her as if that should magically explain everything. After a few seconds of her staring uncomprehendingly at him, Sasuke sighs bitterly and reaches up to pinch the bridge of his nose, lips moving silently as if he’s talking to himself. Sakura feels a hilariously strange sort of horror when she sees Naruto mimic the action as well… though it’s immediately followed by the dreadful realisation that she’d done the same thing at Kakashi-sensei multiple times just yesterday. Oh, gods—do they _all_ do that? “This is too important, Sakura—we have to be at the top of our game for this exam, we can’t have you zoning out like that.”

“Sasuke’s right!” Naruto’s voice jumps into the energised tone she’s used to hearing from him, his expression determined; he seems emboldened by Sasuke’s choice to start this conversation that they’ve obviously been avoiding for a while, if Kakashi-sensei’s reaction to it is anything to go by. He feels strangely tense behind her, his hand like stone on her shoulder, and the feeling of it has anxiety weighing in the pit of Sakura’s stomach like lead. “Sometimes you zone out and look really sad, and then you talk like we hate you or like you’re not part of this team! Which you are—so don’t you dare forget it, dattebayo!”

“I—” Sakura looks over her shoulder as if to ask Kakashi-sensei for confirmation, her eyes wide with shock. Had she been so completely obvious to them? She’d briefly talked about her “drifting” with her therapist after Kakashi-sensei had given them mandatory sessions, but only in the scantest of details. _Dissociation_ , he’d told her, _a completely normal defense mechanism the mind can have to extreme trauma_. She hadn’t explained what triggered these episodes, even when asked, so to have Naruto so confidently lay out a large factor of her self-doubt in front of her leaves her feeling oddly winded.

“It’s been like that since Wave,” Sasuke continues, an unreadable edge to his voice, “and we know we can’t rush you… but we can’t let it happen right now.”

Sakura’s chest feels suddenly and inexplicably tight, leaving her fingers trembling as she looks between her teammates. Naruto’s expression is so earnest, so very hopeful, like he just wants to talk about it and that will make it all better. Sasuke’s is carefully blank, a mask she’s seen him wear many times since Wave, but there’s a certain understanding that she catches in the depths of his gaze before he turns to look away. The idea of him understanding scares her. Sakura doesn’t want to talk about this, not right now, she’s not ready yet—

“Well, kiddos, as enlightening as this all is, you’ve got to go make your sensei proud!” Kakashi-sensei ruffles her hair and then reaches out to do the same to the boys, seemingly taking immense joy from their squawks of protest. “Save it for after your promotions, alright?”

“Deal. That means no zoning out until this is all over, Sakura.” Sasuke’s still staring at her, watching her as she struggles to grasp her composure again, and while a few months ago his gaze would have left her tittering with pleasure, all she feels now is a confusing mixture of guilt and relief. “Remember, you two: we have a goal to achieve.”

“Yeah!” Naruto crows, punching the air above him with a jump. “All of us or none of us, right?”

“That’s right!” Kakashi-sensei gives Sakura a little push forward and she turns around in time to see him push his fists into his pockets, eye curled in his trademark smile. Naruto and Sasuke are still grumbling beside her, but Sakura sees Naruto still smile back at him and Sasuke nod from the corner of her eyes. “Now, off you go, kiddies! I’ve got money on you three, so make sure I make a killing!”

He shunshins away in a hail of leaves and Sakura rolls her eyes alongside Sasuke, turning to start towards the front doors with her head held high. She feels Naruto and Sasuke flanking her and can’t help but smile—that’s their formation, on the battlefield and off of it, and after that talk Sakura wonders if perhaps they started doing that to make her realise she _was_ included, a member of their team. A small part of her wonders if perhaps all her anxieties and self-doubt, all the blame she’d been putting squarely on her shoulders, was entirely obvious from the start. Did they not think she deserved it? Just before they move to open the large double-doors ahead, Sasuke’s hand snakes out to pinch her elbow, a sharp bite of pain that snaps her awareness back before she can trail off too far.

Shooting him an annoyed glance, her ire only raising when he _smirks_ _right_ _back at her_ , Sakura all but throws the door open for them to head inside… which, she realises in hindsight, was a terrible idea. The minute the doors open and the three of them are inside, Sakura can literally feel every eye in the room honed in on their arrival, watching the three of them make their way forward with everything ranging from annoyance to interest to blatant dislike. She notices that a few of their own fellow Konoha genin are blatantly staring at the three of them—Sakura takes care to avoid Ino’s eyes, that particular regret still a bit too fresh for her to consider right now—and she has to tug on Naruto’s sleeve to keep him from snapping out a challenge at every single foreign shinobi that locks eyes with him. On her other side, Sasuke is so tense that Sakura worries he might lash out at someone at even the slightest of provocations.

Biting her lip, she raises her fingers to his wrist and gently signs out a message: _doing okay?_

Sasuke turns sightly, elbow bumping into her own and sliding down the length of her arm before bumping again twice more: _yes, target where?_

Keeping her eyes trained firmly ahead of them, Sakura nods to the board hanging on the wall with the words “testing area” written clearly in white ink. She turns her attention back to their other teammate, her fingers trailing off of Naruto’s sleeve to tap against his forearm: _focus_.

Naruto nods once, pressing his fist to his lips in a cough to mask the movement, and Sakura moves forward to press through the throng of genin around them, her boys flanking her with watchful eyes. Sakura catches the gaze of the boy from the ramen stand a little while back, the older medic named Kabuto, and part of her wonders at the idea that he’s in the exams with them. Logically, Sakura knows it’s not that suspicious that he’s taking part, but something about the way he acts so friendly to her team bothers her—because people are respectful but distant with Sasuke unless they’re a lovestruck girl, and they’re nice enough to her, but _no one_ in Kabuto’s age bracket is kind to Naruto. She’s snapped at enough shopkeepers and passersby to have learned this lesson well, and she knows Sasuke feels the exact same way.

If he’d ignored Naruto’s presence or shunned him, Sakura thinks she may have been fooled—but even Kakashi-sensei had narrowed his eyes at Kabuto, so Sakura places him firmly in the _Possible Enemy_ category.

_Three_ , Sasuke signs against Sakura’s arm, catching her attention once more. He rolls his shoulders and glances up at the ceiling, the movement looking completely natural and giving Sakura the context his message had been lacking. The third floor must be where they need to head, and for once, it seems Sakura seems to have not been on top of the game plan. Sasuke looks amused at her slip up, given the quirk to his lips in her peripheral, and Sakura suddenly has to smother the urge to smother _him_. Instead of focusing on an infuriatingly smug Uchiha walking alongside of her, Sakura directs them wordlessly towards the stairwell.

The stairwell Yamanaka Ino’s team is standing next to.

Sakura’s stomach quivers anxiously at the sight of her former best friend, guilt lancing through her gut like a blade of ice when Ino’s eyes meet her own. She remembers sunny afternoons surrounded by flowers, lacing stems together to wear the wreathes as crowns, the peaceful image becoming clouded and darkening as they split apart due to something as trivial as a boy’s affections. Ino is the reason she is who she is, and Sakura knows that without Ino she wouldn’t have even come far enough to have survived Wave, let alone make it here. _(Sakura may have pushed herself to improve after Wave, she knows her progress with herself and her team is because of her own stubborn will, but she also knows that Ino is the one who encouraged this will of fire within Sakura in the first place.)_ She hears Sasuke exhale in a soft sigh beside her, probably mentally preparing himself for the inevitable screaming match that had rocked their Academy days, and Sakura can’t stop herself from jabbing an elbow into his side in retaliation. Naruto chokes on his spit beside her, Sasuke cuts her with an irritated glare, Ino’s teammates _(Akimichi and Nara,_ _of course, the InoShikaCho tradition remains sacred_ _—)_ look like they’re both surprised and amused, and Ino…

Ino looks like Sakura just kicked her favourite puppy right in front of her. _Oh no_.

“Just who the hell do you think you are, _Forehead_?!” Ino bristles like a cat and Sakura can’t help the small, incredulous giggle as she recalls the very real fact that Sasuke looks distinctly feline in his annoyance as well—and that only seems to add fuel to the blonde’s fire, because she’s suddenly very much in Team Seven’s space. “How dare you elbow Sasuke-kun like that, huh? And what’s up with that _lame_ outfit?”

“Hey, our outfits are awesome!”

“They are,” Ino’s teammate chirps helpfully. Akimichi… Sakura _should_ know his name. Ino has complained about her pre-set team since they’d first become friends, but for the life of her she can’t recall their given names. Without the ability to focus on recalling any one specific rant, not that she could ever hope to concentrate with Ino so loud and so _close_ , she’s simply left floundering for their names. Sakura sends him a grateful smile over the blonde’s shoulder, anyway, and is pleased when he pauses to look briefly shocked before returning it.

“Shut it, Chōji!” Ino bellows, whirling on him with betrayal clear in her tone.

Ah. Chōji. Akimichi Chōji. She’ll have to thank him sometime.

“Ino…” Her other teammate groans with a deep sigh, rolling his shoulders and slouching down in a position that looks downright painful. “It’s too damn early for all this yelling, you troublesome woman.”

“It’s always _too early_ to you, Shikamaru! This is serious! She should treat Sasuke-kun with respect!”

The plan had been so very simple: make it inside without causing too much of a scene, go up the stairs, start their test, ace said test, and then make sure to blow the rest of the genin competitors away with their awesomeness. It was fool-proof, even Naruto could not have felled this amazing plan on his absolute worst days, and yet here they stand. They’re just on the edge, ready to make their first leap of many in changing the course of history as Team Seven, the strongest team Konoha has ever seen… and they’re stopped by Yamanaka Ino.

Oh, _irony_. Sakura doesn’t want to cross this bridge yet—hell, she doesn’t even want to be in the same _village_ as that bridge right now. She’s not even listening to the blonde’s ranting any more, too caught up in her own despair on how she could possibly avoid this confrontation and put it off for just a while longer. This is not how she’d planned to start her day, not at all, and so Sakura asks herself the one pivotal question that she often asks in time of emergencies: _what would Kakashi-sensei do?_

Simple. He’d do something ridiculous like tell a lie so out there that you couldn’t tell if it was true or not, he’d run away with a random excuse that made absolutely no sense… or he’d do something so over-the-top that you’d be left shell-shocked while he galavanted away.

Option three it is.

She’s grateful her shyness of her childhood was rather expertly and brutally murdered by Ino in their youth—another thing to thank the blonde for, really—so that she can go through with this without her face turning the same shade of pink as her hair. Channeling every ounce of her beloved sensei’s theatrics, Sakura drags her palms down her cheeks in much the same fashion she’s seen Kakashi-sensei do when he’s being _overly_ demanding of her patience, staring at the ceiling and screaming silently. She can feel Naruto’s shoulders heaving with muffled laughter beside her, his laughter sounding strained behind his fist that he’s jammed against his lips, but Sasuke is just staring at her with a bored expression. _(Kakashi-sensei is such a good influence on her, really… the dramatics are such a good way to avoid confrontation.)_ Sasuke’s expression only turns more deadpan as Sakura slumps theatrically to the floor, limp as a noodle, and Ino’s team can only stare on in utterly confused silence as Sakura throws her hands up to the gods in prayer for the sweet release of death.

Naruto, bless his soul, joins in on her plan eagerly. Her blonde teammate drops to a knee beside Sakura and clutches her hand in his own, shaking his free fist at the sky as if cursing her fate of _death by awkward teenage girl confrontations_.

Sasuke just kicks her none too gently in the ribs and rolls his eyes, marching past the still shell-shocked Ino and her team to head up the stairs.

“So much for a united front,” Naruto laughs with ill-contained glee, pulling Sakura up to her feet and shrugging off the incredulous stares in a way that leaves Sakura filled with awe. She wishes _she_ could shrug off the way she can feel the entire room’s gaze on her, memories of her childhood bullies’ sneers and taunts suddenly creeping up the back of her neck. Before she can shrink in on herself and let the old shyness of years past creep up on her, however, Naruto just tugs her along and up the stairs with a cheerful _see ya!_ to the trio still standing in two-thirds-amused-one-third-shocked silence.

They catch up with Sasuke easily enough, Naruto still guffawing under his breath, and Sakura notes with a pleased grin that Sasuke didn’t even get that far ahead of them. He’d totally waited for his team despite being annoyed with their antics. She shares a conspiratorial look with Naruto behind Sasuke’s back and they two of them snicker silently into their hands. He can’t fool them.

The three of them reach the testing area with no real difficulty, the halls actually relatively empty, but once they enter the room Sakura’s left to raise her eyebrows at the sheer number of genin cramming into the room. There were still _so many_ people downstairs, though! _Just how many teams signed up for this thing_ , she wonders as she glances around the room with confusion pulling her lips into a frown. It’s a large room, completely void of any furniture minus a single desk at the front of the room. What could be the purpose of having them all just stand in here?

And why hadn’t everyone from downstairs come up here yet?

Sakura realises her error with a lurch of her heart, remembering the large billboard that had been hanging in the entryway. It had said the testing room was on the first floor when she’d looked at it… but Sasuke had told her it was the third floor, steering them up the stairs so that they could take the test. Genjutsu, she realises with a slight pang of disappointment in herself. The sign must have had a genjutsu cast over it, and Sasuke had managed to see through it despite the fact that Sakura hadn’t even suspected they’d be tested for the chance to even enter the exams in the first place. he’s supposed to be training as the genjutsu expert of their team, but she hadn’t even caught on to the possibility of one. How the hell does she protect her team, watch their backs, when she can’t even catch something so simple as—

_Stop it._ Sasuke’s firm hand on her shoulder doesn’t have to even be in their code. The message rings loud and clear between them, loud enough that Naruto’s shoulder resting against her own tells her he’d heard it, too. Sasuke’s fingers twitch against the mesh armour on her shoulder before it drops, his message leaving her heart fluttering: _need you here_.

She needs to focus. She can’t let herself get distracted right now, not when they all need to keep their heads in the game. Taking in a deep shuddering breath, Sakura focuses inward. So, the reason so many people were still downstairs was because there was a genjutsu in place—meaning they were trying to cull the numbers of the participants, weed out the genin that couldn’t see through a low-grade genjutsu such as that. The exam had started from the minute they’d walked in, and Sakura realises she’d been far too complacent, relying on shinobi to treat this like a paper exam in the academy. She’ll have to be much, _much_ more aware in the future. She’d gotten too content, too lax… that could cost her dearly out in the field. It could cost them all.

Sakura spends the next several minutes of anxious waiting making mental tabs on all the teams currently in the room, as well as cataloguing who else comes in and which village they’re from. She notices right away that not all of the Konoha genin make it in—she’d seen more Konohagakure hitai-ates downstairs, but she only counts five teams including her own—but that she sees plenty of Suna and Ame participants in the room alongside them. There are also two Kusa teams and a single team from Oto _(surprising, because Sakura didn’t realise the still very new, very small village had been invited to participate)_ as well, sprinkling the room with several people with no loyalty or camaraderie with her or her teammates. Sakura worries her bottom lip, shifting closer to her boys as the crushing realisation that she’s essentially surrounded by enemies—because they are, even with their flimsy alliances in place allowing them to be here, everyone in Konoha knows just how _tremulous_ those treaties are—weighs heavily on her shoulders.

“Time’s up,” a gravely voice declares from the front of the room, startling the entire crowd into silence. More than one team reaches for their weapons on instinct, and this only seems to amuse the source of the voice: a tall, dark-skinned man who hadn’t been there before stands behind the heavy desk, watching them all with cold, calculating eyes. The walls are suddenly lined with other Konoha ninja, all looking to be of mixed chūnin and jōnin rank, and Sakura can actually _feel_ the tension from the foreign shinobi in the room skyrocket, mirroring her own from just moments ago. “To those of you who made it here, congratulations. You passed the first trial of this exam. I am your proctor for this trial, Morino Ibiki.”

He doesn’t sound at all congratulatory. In fact, he sounds rather condescending.

“The easy portion’s over, kids. This is your last shot to back out, so take it or leave it.” His dark eyes scan over the entire room, roving each face and expression as if he can somehow possibly read every single thought in their heads. His scarred lips twist into a cruel smirk and he tilts his head, hand reaching up to undo his own hitai-ate that’s twisted around his head like a bandana—

Scars. So many scars, all littered across his skull and around his ears, knives and burns and jagged lines that look as if someone pulled on the strings stitching a wound together for fun. Sakura’s stomach _rolls_ and she feels Sasuke and Naruto both freeze beside her as well, twin sharp intakes of breath the only sounds either of them make. The entire room seems to have simultaneously tensed up at the sight, the collective temperature dropping several degrees in the span of a single heartbeat at the realisation of just the kind of person who’s standing at the front of the room… and just as suddenly, Sakura knows exactly what his idea of a test will be, because those scars are very clearly not battle wounds.

Those are from torture. _Interrogation_.

“Well, well—nice to see some gears turning.” Sakura’s jaw clicks shut, teeth grinding together painfully, as she locks gazes with Ibiki. He seems pleased with whatever he sees, because the corners of his deformed face twist up even further and he nods once, the movement short and concise. “The second trial will be this: you will each be given a random number on a piece of paper. You are not to tell anyone the number. Once we have released you from this room, you are to use any methods at your disposal to get another shinobi’s name and number from them. Each team of three must get three different numbers in the allotted time to pass—so no, you can’t share. If all three of you are picked off by someone, you fail. Got it? Good. Come up, then.”

_Any methods at your disposal._ Those words seem to hang in the air like a guillotine over everyone in the room, foreboding and shocking them all into place, and it’s only when a boy with a shock of red hair from Suna steps up that Sakura remembers how to breathe again. Her blood is ice in her veins, splintering within her with every rapid beat of her heart, and Sakura turns wife panicked eyes to look at her teammates, the message in them as clear as day: _let’s back out_. For a moment, it looks like Sasuke is actually entertaining the idea, but when she turns her eyes back to Naruto’s face…

“I’m not backing down, dattebayo!” He declares loudly, fist in the air and eyes lit by wildfires within. “My team’s gonna breeze through this in no time!”

Naruto’s voice rings out like someone’s put their fist through one of the windows lining the walls, loud and clear and practically gutting Sakura on the spot. Her shoulders sag at the confidence in his voice, a warmth radiating from somewhere deep within her, and she can see that the tense lines in Sasuke’s expression have eased as well. His cocky grin is back in place, directed at the incredulous expressions staring at the three of them, and when he flicks his eyes to Sakura and Naruto nudges her arm with his own, she can’t help but return it. She’s sure she looks half-manic, with trembling fists and a smile stretching across her face, but there’s just something about Naruto that makes her feel positively invincible, the looming threat of interrogation be damned.

So, head up and spine straight, Sakura marches forward and has to keep herself from smiling when she feels Sasuke and Naruto trailing behind her. They can do this. They’re team fucking seven, after all—their sensei is a prodigy, a man in the bingo books and a legend from the war, so why on earth should they be scared for even a moment? Throw hesitation out the window and go all in! That’s the Uzumaki Naruto way… no, it’s the Team Seven way!

Mind already whirling with ideas and strategies, Sakura takes her paper and is led out of a door she didn’t even see by a chūnin she doesn’t recognise. So, they’re probably using genjutsu to give people a chance and not let them immediately see who is going outside of what door… which is good on one hand, but on the other it totally kills her entire first plan of waiting outside the door for her first chance. She looks back at Sasuke and Naruto, finding them doing the same as they’re led to their own exits, and with a firm nod she decides that she can’t make this easy. She glances at her paper, the number 3 and her full name right below it, and then quickly crumples it into a ball and swallows it before the door is even open.

The instant she realises she’s left the door, the after-effects of whatever genjutsu they used—obviously very subtle, effective too—wears off and leaves Sakura standing in the middle of a hallway. One moment she’d been passing the threshold of the door, and the next she’s just standing here, empty hallway on both sides, mind racing at a dizzying pace to keep up with all the different plans she has in place. Sakura knows her best chance is to lay a trap for the first person to come down this hallway and then to make a beeline for her team as quickly as possible. In and out, just like Kakashi-sensei taught her, just like how he’d instructed her to use her shunshin for.

She doesn’t have a multitude of chakra at her disposal, so she has to be efficient; if she underestimates her opponent, she may be caught in a long-lasting fight that she’ll lose, but if she overestimates herself she could wind up exhausting her chakra supply and losing out altogether. Sakura quickly lays down a _Magen: Nijū Kokoni Arazu no Jutsu_ and sets to work, snagging a kunai from her holster on her arm and setting her fingers into place to quickly form a tiger seal, the exact amount of chakra necessary buzzing in place in preparation to be released. It feels as if time stretches on for an _eternity_ , but Sakura doesn’t budge even an inch, muscles poised for a quick strike, chakra humming beneath her skin and behind her eyes for what she hopes will be a quick hit and run.

The jōnin leading his genin charge down the hallway—she’s obviously still caught in whatever genjutsu the proctors were using—sees Sakura’s genjutsu in place, surprise flickering over his face, but says nothing as he shunshins away and leaves the girl at Sakura’s mercy. All Sakura sees is a Kusa headband and a shock of red hair before she explodes into motion, her chakra singing as she shunshins right into the girl at full speed. The redhead is foolishly clutching her paper to her chest in a loose grip, and that makes it all the much easier for Sakura to snatch it with one hand and shove with all her strength. The girl hits the wall with a startled, bitten-off cry that makes Sakura feel a little guilty as she takes off down the hallway, nothing but a blur to eyes trained enough to spot her.

She knows her teammate’s chakra signals like the back of her hands, and so the instant she feels Sasuke’s flare once, twice, and then a third time in their S.O.S. signal, she spins on her heel and races for Sasuke at top speed, mindful of exactly how much chakra she’s using as she goes. She’s preparing for a fight with everything she is, mentally tallying her weapons, her Kunai gripped in a white-knuckle grip, but Sakura comes up short as she shoots by the blonde kunoichi from Suna crumpled against the wall and clearly unconscious, Sasuke standing further down the hallway with Naruto and looking poised for a fight.

She hurries to them as silently as she can, careful that the girl doesn’t notice them, and takes in their appearances with a critical eye. Sasuke has a cut across his cheekbone and Naruto’s cheek is swelling from what looks like a nasty blow, but otherwise they seem in high spirits, twin pieces of folded paper clutched in their hands.

“Who?” She asks curiously, already recalling the floor layout to get back to the classroom—hopefully without passing by the surely furious redhead. Or the other redhead. Or anyone else, really, if she could have her way.

“Temari,” Sasuke answers with still-spinning sharingan eyes locked on his target and gesturing down the hall at the unconscious kunoichi she’d passed, “she apparently wasn’t expecting a kunai to the throat as soon as she came out of whatever genjutsu that was.”

“I beat the snot outta that jerk, Kiba!” Naruto is whisper-shouting, clearly aware of the need for stealth but unable to contain his glee, and he folds his arms behind his head with a wild grin. “I used a chili bomb on him and then hit him with all the clones I could until I managed to grab it and take off!”

“What about you, Sakura?”

“Ah, a girl from Grass,” Sakura rubs the back of her head with an uneasy chuckle, her paper clutched in her hand. She unfolds it and glances at the characters written there, blinking in surprise. “Karin, it seems. I caught her off guard with a genjutsu—just snagged it and took off. I figured the faster I went, the better chance I had.”

“Hell yeah! Team Seven is gonna dominate this thing!” Naruto cheers, dashing forward for the closest entrance to the room with his teammates by his side. Surprisingly, no one intercepts them on the way, and Sakura finds herself wondering how everyone’s doing with this part of the exam.

They're actually not the first ones back to the room, Sakura notes with no short amount of shock. It had felt like their encounters had gone by so swiftly, as if they were over in the blink of an eye, and yet there are several people already here and done as well. The red-haired boy that had gone up first is there, grinning in a way that sends a shiver of fear down her spine, his notes in his hands very noticeably splattered with blood. Notes. Plural. He'd taken more than one… and apparently he'd used methods much less passive than her own team's in order to get them. The knowledge makes her stomach roll unpleasantly. She'd known people might have more forceful methods, but she'd still thought it'd be relatively bloodless.

Shikamaru’s also there, leaning back against the far wall with a slip of paper in his hand, too. Ino and Chōji are sitting on the ground beside him, looking haggard but still in good health. Ino’s cradling her rapidly swelling cheek, but she’s stubbornly clinging to a piece of paper in her hands, expression determined. Choji’s forehead is bleeding from a shallow cut as well, but he looks rather proud of himself, twiddling his note in his hands with a tiny, pleased smile creasing his lips.

As more time passes more teams filter in, and Sakura is pleased that every single Konoha team has managed to make it back in one piece. They all seem rather good-natured with one another despite clearly having targeted fellow Konoha teams in the fray, and even Kiba seems less irate with Naruto and more amused, a challenging grin on his lips as he looks over at her blonde teammate. The girl she’d caught in the hallway—Karin, she reminds herself—returns with her team, glaring daggers directly at Sakura as she settles in a corner, trembling fists barely concealing a piece of paper. Sakura blinks, surprised that the girl had even caught a glimpse of her due to the speed of their encounter, but turns her gaze toward the proctor instead before the girl can get any more riled up. Had she _already_ made an enemy?

After several agonising moments spent in silence, the only sounds being occasional genin entering from the hallway, an invisible force seems to shift the entire room. As if on some unspoken cue, the chūnin and jōnin move from their lines against the far wall of the room to instead stand in front of the doors, blocking anyone from entering or leaving. The entire atmosphere becomes almost oppressive, and Sakura glances to see Sasuke and Naruto’s gazes flickering around the room as if searching for a threat.

The “threat” comes in the form of a purple-haired woman barreling through the windows with an earth-shattering crash, laughing maniacally as if she’s not surrounded by a cacophony of raining glass and surprised shouts. The woman is more or less wearing only a mesh armour body suit with a dark skirt beneath a long trench coat, and Sakura can’t help but scowl at the way many of the boys in the room stare, her own teammates _included_. That’s obviously the intended effect, but still… how unprofessional!

“Congratulations, kiddies!” The woman declares, her smirk stretching across her face with edges so sharp Sakura’s sure she could slit someone’s throat with them. “You passed the second trial—which means it’s _my_ turn. My name is Anko Mitarashi; welcome to hell!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 01/08/19: You'll notice I'm reposting this chapter, but that's because I wanted to make sure everyone saw that I've officially finished the chapter revisions / rewrites! I've added several scenes, changed some aspects, and all around these changes in all of the chapters were enough to warrant me wanting to use this post as a way to let people know to re-read everything and prepare for things to pick up next chapter! I am resuming my weekly updates, **so I'll be posting the next chapter next Tuesday!** Remember: the Chūnin Exams are going to be where the game changes... so I hope you're all strapped in and ready for a ride!
> 
> Now that I'm back, I thought it might be a good idea to ask my readers for their opinions: romantically speaking, what kind of endgame would you like me to consider? It doesn't matter how crackship you think it is, please feel free to leave some recommendations! Just... be prepared for a slowburn all around. This is definitely gonna be a while.
> 
> The original word count on this chapter was 5,546. This revision's word count is now 8,928.


	5. of looking backwards, looking backwards

**August** **1st 996** **— Konohagakure**

It feels as if this day has been going on forever. Sakura supposes it was only thanks to the adrenaline from the test that has kept her feeling wired and awake; as it stands, ever since the announcement that they were advancing to the third trial, all she feels is an exhaustion that’s settled deep in her bones, weighing her down like stones tied around her ankles. All she wants right now is to go home and curl up in bed for a week straight, because no shorter amount of time feels adequate enough to recover from the stress that she’d apparently compartmentalised so very well. Sakura hadn’t even realised how anxious she was about the entire situation until Anko, the proctor for the third phase of the exams, had opened the doors and told them to gather outside of Konoha’s ominous forty-fourth training ground in thirty minutes. Sakura’s fingers had started trembling almost instantaneously, her entire body sagging with relief once it finally sank in that they’d  _ passed, _ and even as Sakura walks with slightly unsteady steps toward their destination with Sasuke and Naruto at her sides, her hands haven’t stopped shaking yet. 

Sakura had been afraid of having to be on her own, undeniably terrified even, but she’d put it all aside for the sake of her team. She should be  _ proud _ of that, she knows, and she  _ wants _ to be… there’s just so much that’s happened today, so much that’s been laid out for her and for her team, and she’s in dire need of a long nap and possibly another session with her therapist. She needs to be able to take inventory of herself and her feelings—there’s just so many of them—before she has another downward spiral again at the most inopportune moment. She needs to talk to someone.

_ (What she needs is to talk to Ino—) _

The moment Team Seven exits the testing building, they’re caught off guard by a familiar sensation thumping down on all three of their heads in rapid succession. They all halt in their tracks as one, with Naruto and Sakura impulsively covering their heads with their hands and Sasuke simply rolling his eyes while he crams his fists into his pockets. It’s become unmistakable to Sakura, something she’s dealt with semi-regularly for months, the little  _ thud _ of his book against her hair coming just as naturally as the way Sakura spins on her heel to give Kakashi-sensei a wide smile. Her heart, which had been so heavy before, lightens immensely at the sight of him, all thoughts of exhaustion and stress pushed firmly from her mind. A small part of her mind acknowledges that Kakashi-sensei makes everything better.

“I just wanted to congratulate my precious genin,” he tells them conversationally as his hand reaches out to squash against Naruto’s mouth before he can shout a greeting, “and say thank you for winning me quite a few bets. I’m going to be eating well tonight.”

“What bets?” Sasuke looks a little offended, but Sakura can see the curiosity in his eyes despite the downward twist of his lips. He’s getting easier to read these days.

“Well, all the jōnin get to watch from the lounge, you know.” Kakashi-sensei smiles, his eye crinkling, and Sakura’s own eye twitches with the violent need to suckerpunch him right in the ribs.  _ No, _ they hadn’t known that. Logically it makes sense that they’d monitor the exams, but the knowledge that they had been watching makes her feel inexplicably bashful in the face of her sensei. She’d felt so confident because she’d thought, foolishly, that no one else had seen her hastily thought up plan play out. “There are cameras all over this place thanks to the guys at T&I, and the jōnin assigned to any given team is allowed to watch the second trial. I have to say, I was impressed with all of you… even if you  _ did _ give me a heart attack with that little stunt you pulled, Sakura.”

“Stunt?” Eyebrows raising in confusion, Sakura glances at her teammates in alarm, both of them staring back at her with twin expressions of surprise. What had she done that would have alarmed Kakashi-sensei? “What stunt?”

“Swallowing the paper with your name and number, dummy.” Kakashi-sensei tells her with that same smile in place, which is now becoming somewhat unsettling the longer it remains trained on her. His book  _ thunks _ against her head with a little more force this time and she squeaks, having not even seen the movement of his arm until it was far too late. “While a good move on the field,  _ Sakura, _ that’s basically an invitation screaming  _ look at me, I’ll only tell you what you want if you use force! _ Half the other instructors thought I’d been training you up for ANBU or something already. Honestly. You make people think you’re off the rails  _ one whole time _ and suddenly no one trusts you with children…”

The mention of ANBU has her blood instinctively running cold, but her veins turn frigid at the implication that any instructor would set a child in their care up for joining at such a young age. The force called ANBU is like a dark underbelly of Konoha, one that Sakura has only read brief snippets about in all her years of schooling and research, and it was something she knew she’d have to have far more clearance to learn anything more about due to its secretive nature. Each village had their own ANBU, and it was well known that they  _ existed, _ but the air of secrecy added to the widespread belief that ANBU agents were willing to do the things that no village wanted to claim responsibility for. There are jōnin who thought Kakashi-sensei would be willing to sign her up for  _ that? _

“You swallowed your paper?” Sasuke stares at her with something akin to surprise and—dare she read into it?—awe in his eyes, as if he’s suddenly seeing her in a new light for the very first time.

“Well, yeah… the point was to keep your note, right? What did you guys do with yours?”

“I dropped mine on Kiba,” Naruto says rather cheerily, completely missing Kakashi-sensei’s amused snort in response, “because a great Hokage helps out his fellow shinobi, right?”

“I kept mine in my  _ pocket, _ like any reasonable person would,” Sasuke drawls, eyes narrowing as he cuts a glance toward Naruto. “I just—you  _ swallowed _ it?”

Sakura looks between her teammates and their instructor with wide eyes, confused at their reactions to what she’d thought was a completely logical course of action. If she didn’t have the paper, someone couldn’t get the paper  _ from _ her, which would have lead them to the most likely conclusion that she’d already lost hers. She would have been safest that way if anyone had stopped her—well, aside from the redhead from Suna, because he seemed to  _ enjoy _ taking things by force—simply because she would have had nothing to give them. She would have been a weak link for them to ignore. If she has no paper, she has no use to them or to the exam, right?

_ But the proctors never said you had to get the paper, _ she realises with a choking sense of dread.  _ They’d only said to get the number. _

“Someone could have tortured me to get my number and still passed.” Saying it out loud makes it much more real, and suddenly her heart is hammering painfully in her chest. Naruto sucks in a surprised breath beside her, his hand instantly reaching out to touch her arm in his shock, and even Sasuke goes completely still on her other side. She’d been so  _ smug _ and sure of herself for her choice, and yet now she realises just how huge of a mistake she’d really made. She could have died. She could have failed her entire team because of one hastily thrown together plan that she clearly didn’t think all the way through. Panic seizes her chest and Sakura has to remember how to  _ breathe— _

“They could have, but ultimately they didn’t.” Kakashi-sensei’s voice sounds as gentle as his hand in her hair, fingers sifting through the cotton candy strands in repetitive but comforting motions. Sometimes she forgets that those same fingers have doubtlessly taken more lives than he can bother to count. “All three of you need to be more careful, though. Between Naruto’s outburst, your apparent challenge, and Sasuke making an enemy of the Kazekage’s daughter… well, you three have quite the target painted on your backs.”

“We’ll be careful, Kaka-sensei.” Naruto sounds uncharacteristically solemn as his hand shifts down to find hers, fingers intertwining with Sakura’s and giving her a reassuring squeeze.

“We’ll try to win you a few more bets, too.” Despite the same uncaring tone Sasuke wields like a suit of armour, Sakura swears she feels his fingertips briefly ghost against the back of her free hand as well.

“You’ll all do great!” Kakashi-sensei waits until Sakura looks back up at him before he tilts his head much like a puppy, eye curling into that familiar smile of his. Her chest feels lighter at the sight of it, and Sakura offers him a hesitant smile in return. “I’ve been summoned by the Hokage, so I just wanted to see you off. He says it’s important, so I might be leaving on a mission for a bit—but I’ll come back just in time to see you all pass the third phase!”

He’s gone in a swirl of leaves before any of them can say anything else, leaving his students to stare after him with mixed emotions painted clearly on their faces. The three of them stay rooted to the same spot for a few moments, each of them processing through what he’d told them with heavy hearts: they’ve all made enemies, it seems, and their advancement to chūnin is looking less and less like the walk in the park they had all expected.  _ Pride is often a shinobi’s greatest downfall, _ Kakashi-sensei had warned her just the day before. They’ve gotten cocky with their progress, egged on by the leaps and bounds they’ve been making as a team, and this is the result. They’ll have to be more careful if they want to reach their shared goal. They need to make sure they aren’t getting too far ahead of themselves.

“Come on,” Sasuke says at last, head turned so that she can’t see whatever expression he’s wearing. He’s tense, but he still reaches out to press his fingers to her wrist in their  _ follow _ sign before he starts walking, clearly encouraging her to come with him. “We don’t want to be late—that Anko looks like she  _ redefines _ the word crazy.”

“You’ve got that right, teme!” Naruto laughs from beside her, grabbing Sakura’s other wrist and pulling her along with him to join their fellow teammate. He has an edge to his tone, one not so different from the one he’d worn back in Wave, his voice riding high on adrenaline as he fought to keep his confident smile in place no matter what. “Seriously, did you see the way she just shattered those windows? When I’m Hokage, I’m gonna take stuff like that outta people’s paychecks, dattebayo.”

For some reason this is the funniest thing she’s heard all day. Sakura throws her head back and laughs, Naruto’s declaration so confident and yet so out of left field that she just can’t help herself. The pitch of her laughter is higher than normal, clearly tinged with anxiety but still clearly sounding relieved all at the same time, and soon enough Naruto’s laughter is ringing alongside her own. From the corner of her eye, Sakura can see a soft smile quirking the edges of Sasuke’s lips, and together the three of them head toward training ground forty-four, ready to face their newest challenge head on.

What they arrive to isn’t exactly what they’re expecting. 

In front of them is a large, walled off forest with trees taller than anything Sakura has ever seen before in her life, branches reaching out in fathomless directions with leaves that block out any sunlight from entering below. It’s almost impossible to see any further than the tallest branch, just over the top of the wall, as everything else tapers off into pitch-black obscurity. Apparently the three of them arrive just in time to be thoroughly spooked: a bird lands on the branch they can see clearly, situated in just the perfect angle to be seen in a well placed beam of sunlight, and within the span of a single heartbeat the creature is swallowed whole by a large, spotted snake that slips back down into the darkness with its meal.

“Was that… a giant snake?” Sasuke sounds morbidly curious, his expression tight despite the way his eyes widen just enough to be noticeable to Sakura. 

_ “Yikes.” _ Naruto’s deadpan betrays the look on his face: wide-eyed, mouth hanging open, probably only mildly shell-shocked.

“Hard pass,” Sakura says immediately, her skin crawling, “I’m really not liking this place.”

“Well, you shouldn’t.” Anko’s voice carries across the way to them, shocking the three of them back into the present. Naruto squawks indignantly with surprise, Sakura jumps nearly a foot out of her skin, and Sasuke tenses up so abruptly that Sakura is  _ positive _ she hears his spine pop. Their reactions seem to please Anko, because her lips stretch into a wide smile, the edges sharp and deadly while her dark eyes seem to glow with an indescribable  _ glee. _ “They call this the Forest of Death, kiddies—and today, all of you are gonna get to find out why.”

“Don’t like that,” Sakura mumbles under her breath. Anko’s dark eyes flicker to her face, smile widening as if Sakura’s just given her the best gift she could ever ask for, but before Sakura can shrink back from that wild gaze someone else decides to draw Anko’s attention.

“This place doesn’t look all that bad!” Kiba barks out a sharp laugh and rolls his eyes, jabbing his elbow into an obviously unwilling Aburame’s side as he looks up at the treetops. “Looks like if my backyard got a little out of hand, y’know? Akamaru’ll probably have a blast in there!”

Sakura thanks  _ every single God _ from  _ every single religion _ as those eyes of Anko’s flicker away from her face, shoulders sagging with silent gratitude once she feels like she’s no longer being watched by what she can only describe as a  _ predator. _ Anko tilts her head in a clearly unhinged way, head lolling toward Kiba’s direction, and with a flick of her wrist that Sakura’s eyes can’t even follow a kunai zips by Kiba’s face. It hits the ground behind him with a dull thud, startling poor Hyūga Hinata close to fainting as she realises how close it’s come to where she’s standing, and for a second Sakura genuinely thinks Anko’s going to just snap Kiba’s neck right there in front of all the genin participants. She looks half-crazed as she brushes her thumb through the thin line of red on his cheek, leaning in close—too close, that’s so inappropriate—and inhaling like she’s  _ scenting his blood. _

Sakura hears Sasuke make an odd choking sound beside her.

“You think you’re brave, tough guy?” Anko presses her face so close to Kiba’s own that Sakura’s cheeks flush at the proximity, her voice shifting into something akin to a distorted lullaby. It’s deceptively soft and yet it carries across the entire area, her words coming out in a little sing-song manner, and Sakura actually wonders for a moment if she should do something, anything at all, to put an end to this debacle _. _ Her behaviour is  _ highly _ inappropriate for a proctor and it sets Sakura’s skin crawling, anxiety pulling at her muscles and sending her fingers twitching for one of her weapon holsters purely on instinct.

Thankfully, Sakura doesn’t have to act—Naruto does it  _ for _ her.

“Oi! Back off, lady!” His bellow is enough to startle everyone standing around them, and Sakura  _ feels _ rather than sees all of the genin surrounding them take a collective step back and away from where he’s standing. “If you don’t, I’ll  _ make _ you!”

It seems that while Sakura balks in the face of danger, heart rate skyrocketing and her muscles seizing in terror, Naruto laughs and makes an obscene gesture at death with a smile on his face. Sakura immediately moves closer to Naruto after his declaration, her shoulders held taut and a grim expression settling against the lines of her face. This is the second time today that she’d been too frightened to step up when she really should have, the second time that Naruto has shown just how courageous he really is, and Sakura won’t leave him to make the stand alone.  _ (If he dies on this hill, she’s going down with him.) _ She has to admit that if today has taught her nothing else, Sakura at least knows this: she admires Uzumaki Naruto more than anyone else she’s ever met.

“Oho?” Anko looks amused, if not a little condescending, as she turns her wild gaze to him. Her expression reminds Sakura of a long-suffering parent that’s simply entertaining a child’s fantasy to avoid a tantrum, the lines of her face clearly unimpressed as she regards his defiant stance and determined expression. Her lips pull up into a crooked smile, a lazy expression not unlike one Sakura’s imagined on Kakashi-sensei’s face before, and she straightens up and away from Kiba to angle her body towards Naruto. Sasuke shifts closer to them both, and Sakura briefly wonders if she imagines the way Anko’s dark eyes flicker at the movement. “You’ll  _ make me, _ huh?”

“Hell yeah! I’m gonna be Hokage one day, y’know!” The declaration is one Sakura has heard countless times since joining the Academy, yet this time feels it feels completely  _ different. _ It feels more like a promise than the way he’d always shouted his dream from the rooftops, the words sounding as if she’s never really heard them quite like this before, and Sakura can’t help but turn her head to look at her blonde teammate in shock. “It’s my job to protect my village—and that includes Dog Breath, too! So if you mess with him, or any of my other fellow shinobi, you mess with  _ me!” _

_ You really are something else, _ Sakura thinks with no small amount of awe, her wide green eyes staring intently at Naruto’s profile, at the stubborn tilt of his chin and the determination painted so clearly along the planes of his face. He’d been bullied all his life, mocked for the very same dream he’s proudly declaring now—even by the person he’s defending—and yet here Uzumaki Naruto stands, fighting the good fight for the people that had treated him so poorly. He didn’t hate a single one of them, not one person in the village; in fact, he loves them all, wants to protect them, lead them. Not for the first time, Sakura feels a well of shame overflow in her chest, eyes burning with the same regret that had choked her on the night of their very first sleepover together. He is so kind, so inherently good, and Sakura knows without a doubt that the people of Konohagakure don’t deserve him.  _ She _ doesn’t deserve him.

But he’s going to love them all anyway.

It’s so silent in the wake of his words that Sakura swears she could hear a pin drop between them, but Naruto’s gaze doesn’t waver even once from Anko’s as she stares him down. The seconds feel like they drag on for decades, and with every passing heartbeat Sakura’s muscles become more and more tensed, as if they’re predicting an attack that’s yet to be made. As the seconds tick by, Anko’s face eventually shifts into a new expression, softening but retaining a peculiar edge that Sakura can’t really identify. 

“I like you, kid!” Anko finally declares with a boisterous laugh, baring her teeth in a feral sort of smile as she shifts into a much more relaxed stance, hands on her hips and head tossed back. Approval seems to be shining in her eyes, but Sakura’s not really sure what exactly she’s so approving  _ of. _ “You’ve got spunk. I think you’re gonna do fine. What’s your name?”

“I’m Uzumaki Naruto of Team Seven, dattebayo!”

“Uzumaki Naruto, hm?” Something in her tone tells Sakura she’d known exactly who the boy is, but that she’d wanted to see if he was as proud of his name as he was of his dream. Narrowing her eyes suspiciously, Sakura makes sure to keep her eyes trained on Anko’s hands—she’d been fast with her kunai, almost invisible to the naked eye, but Sakura’s willing to test whether she  _ can _ keep up for Naruto’s sake. At this point, Sakura’s willing to bet she’d be willing to do a lot for Naruto’s sake. “Well, kid, gimme a call when you’re Hokage. I’ll be disappointed if you don’t.”

The older woman turns on her heel at that, waving her hand over her shoulder as she makes to approach one of two jōnin holding large chests covered with seals, and for a long moment Sakura can’t fathom that the confrontation has ended as quickly as it had begun. It’s as if the spell on all the assembled genin is broken at the sight of her back, and slowly several teams begin to follow after her or simply mill around to exchange words in low tones, some of them tossing Naruto unreadable glances as they pass him by. 

The three of them seem to silently decide to hang back without exchanging even a single glance. Sakura decides it’s for the best, really,  _ especially _ after the scene they’d just caused not even ten minutes after Kakashi-sensei’s lecture. Sakura takes the moment to brush her fingertips against his sleeve, offering the blonde a small smile of congratulations, and on his other side she sees Sasuke lightly jab Naruto’s arm for the trouble. Naruto, though… he’s still wearing that same confident grin of his, glowing in her eyes as if he’s made of sunshine. In that moment, Sakura acknowledges that the curve of Uzumaki Naruto’s lips is nothing less than contagious as a matching smile creeps along her own face.

“Listen up! You’ll need to get through this  _ alive _ if you wanna get promoted to chūnin, so pay close attention!” Anko bellows from where she’s standing, dragging Sakura’s attention away from her teammates. Crossing her arms over her chest, Sakura tilts her head and glances over the wooden chests on either side of her; they’re sealed shut and clearly important, as they’re being guarded by one jōnin each while several others and even a number of chūnin stand nearby. So, is whatever’s in there supposed to be their next trial, then? “Each team is assigned their own scroll from these chests. No one but me has had access to your team’s scroll, and you don’t want anyone getting their grubby little hands on it either. Every single one of these scrolls is unique and attuned specifically to your team, so keep that in mind as you go through.”

One of the jōnin standing beside Anko rolls his eyes when she pauses, seemingly for dramatic effect, and he tosses her a clearly annoyed look for his trouble. Sakura gives him a once over, taking in the bandana wrapped around his head and the senbon rolling between his teeth, before her eyes snap down to see Anko’s hands lifting the lid of the chest cradled in his hands. The purple-haired woman tosses a scroll up and down in her grasp, black ink seeming to gleam in the sunlight as complicated seals wrap around the entire length of it. Sakura narrows her eyes, noticing a small Konoha insignia carved in the wood of the scroll, a subtle marker that either indicates where the team is from or simply that these exams are taking place in Konohagakure.

“You’ll all be let into the forest in turns, and I’d suggest you take the time you get to put some distance between yourselves and your gate. Your first priority should be working on getting your scroll open.” Her grin seems to widen at the confused reception of her words, that same manic edge to her smile sending a shiver crawling down Sakura’s spine, and Anko outright laughs at whatever expressions she sees in the crowd. “What, did you really think it’d be so easy? Your entire team has to work together to break the seal on your scroll, and once you’ve done that, you’ll need to follow whatever instructions are in it. Every team has a different objective, and some of you could be foiled if other teams beat you to the punch, so I’d suggest moving quick, kiddies!”

“When I call out your team name, please come up to retrieve your scroll. A Konoha shinobi will be assigned to escort you to a gate, and once you’re inside you will have five days. Make sure to complete your given tasks and make it to the tower in the center of the forest as quickly as possible.” The man with the senbon looks that he’d rather be anywhere else than standing here, surrounded by a bunch of genin, but his voice is no less authoritative as his dark eyes scan the crowd in front of him. It may be rude to make assumptions based on first impressions, but Sakura’s willing to put down money that he and Kakashi-sensei are friends. “Teams that don’t make it to the tower will be retrieved after the time limit expires. Now, then: Team Shigure, Amegakure!”

Deciding to take advantage of however long they might have before they’re called to enter, Sakura unhooks her pack from the straps that wrap around her shoulders, kneeling down to quickly double-check her supplies. She’s thrumming with nervous energy, second and triple guessing herself and feeling oh-so-glad that she’d packed everything for today  _ just in case. _ Kakashi-sensei hadn’t been able to tell them much of what would be expected of them, but the way he’d shelled out a small fortune on his three students to make sure they’d all been fully stocked up with everything from bandages to food rations to all new weapons had made Sakura wonder. He’d completely topped off Sakura’s own meager weapon supply, and she knows he even made sure Sasuke’s holsters were nearly crammed full, so she’d been extremely careful to bring as much of everything he’d purchased with her today. She had hoped she’d been anxious for nothing, that she’d lost sleep over something impossibly easy, but now…

Well, a stint in a clearly dangerous forest, surrounded by enemies in a free-for-all scenario that could feasibly last for five days? Sakura is  _ so _ grateful for her paranoia right now.

“You sure came prepared. Did you know about this extended camping trip?” Sakura lets out a muffled squeak of surprise, whirling around to stare up at a relatively bored looking Nara Shikamaru. His shoulders are slouched, his fists in his pockets, but his eyes are focused on her pack with an unnerving intensity that makes her want to question just how  _ lazy _ he really is. Ino had once said her teammates were both ‘lousy’ ninja, claiming that one spent all his time napping while the other ate his weight in snacks instead of studying, but something in Shikamaru’s dark gaze reminds her of the way Kakashi-sensei can seem completely disinterested and yet have full focus on his team at all times. It’s unnerving, to say the least, a clear reminder that not everything is always as it seems.

“Not really… I just kind of worked myself up, I guess, so I brought everything I had.” She feels sheepish, silly even, but the admission comes freely instead of the easier claim that she’d known or suspected as much. Her honesty has sacrificed a chance to establish herself as a talented kunoichi with killer instincts, yet Sakura feels like Kakashi-sensei would still be proud of her. “It’s just dumb luck, really.”

“I think it’s good that you’re so prepared, Sakura-san!” Chōji is suddenly  _ right there _ beside Shikamaru, smiling encouragingly at her between quick bites of what look to be fried potato chips. Sakura can’t help but smile back, warmed by his compliment and his soft and polite demeanour.

“Thank you, Chōji-san.” Sakura closes her pack with a snap and stands up, fingers absently fastening its hooks back into place on her harness. Her eyes discreetly flicker behind them in search for Ino’s platinum blonde hair, noting that her former best friend is stubbornly standing some odd distance away with her back to them, not even bothering to approach Sasuke.  _ Oh. _ “My team would probably just call me paranoid, though.”

_ “Super _ paranoid!” Naruto chirps happily, ever the unhelpful one. Sakura shoots him a nasty glare.

“I prefer troublesome.” Shikamaru rolls his shoulders, one hand snaking from his pocket to rub at the back of his neck. Blinking languidly at her out of the corner of his eye, his expression still that carefully crafted expression of disinterest, Shikamaru gestures with his free hand toward the pack she’s just put up, his tone belying his bored expression. “Where do you buy your Grade A tags? Those things aren’t exactly cheap.”

“Oh, Kakashi-sensei took me to some shop he frequents…” Sakura tilts her head, finger tapping her bottom lip thoughtfully, and she tosses a glance towards her teammates with raised eyebrows. “Do you guys remember the name of that place?”

“Ha De Ikiru,” Sasuke replies coolly, crossing his arms and leveling Sakura with an unimpressed scowl. Huh. What’s his deal? Is he under the impression she hadn’t really forgotten the name and was simply trying to drag him into the discussion? Or is he already set into the don’t converse with the possible enemy mentality? Geez,  _ grumpy _ much?

“Oh, that’s my uncle’s shop!” A new voice chiming into their conversation has Sakura turning to look at the source. A girl that looks maybe a little older than herself is walking up to them, her dark brown hair pulled into two twin buns and a bright smile on her face. She’s the kind of pretty that Sakura wishes she could be; the girl is clearly comfortable in her skin, her look completely at-ease and all-natural, but Sakura feels that little pang of envy completely dissipate as the girl tilts her head  _ just so, _ instantly charming the younger genin with the sincerity of her expression. “Hiya! I’m Tenten! I don’t think we’ve met.”

“O-oh…” That old childhood shyness of hers creeps along the back of her neck, tinging the tips of her ears pink, and Sakura has to fight to not drop her gaze to the ground and revert to the once mumbling, bashful mess she’d been as a child. Maybe her confidence is still shot from all that’s happened, or maybe she just hasn’t been faced with so many new people speaking to  _ her _ before; either way, it’s enough to make Sakura want to do nothing more but take a half-step behind Naruto much like she’d once done with Ino for a long while. “Hi, Tenten-san. I’m Haruno Sakura, and—”

“Haruno Sakura-san!” Yet  _ another _ voice has joined in on the steadily-growing group, and Sakura very nearly jumps right out of her skin as an unfamiliar boy appears from seemingly nowhere. His dark hair is cut in a bowl-cut that frames his head, his wide eyes dark and yet somehow filled to the brim with whatever particular emotion he’s feeling at the moment. Sakura  _ swears _ she sees little stars twinkle into existence all around him, glittering like gold, and part of her wonders if he’s put her under a genjutsu without her noticing. “I am Rock Lee! Please, go out with me! I will protect you with my life!”

“Come again…?” Sakura doesn’t know what to say to such a proclamation upon first meeting someone, let alone how to feel about it, and she’s left staring at him with a dumbfounded expression on her face. She flounders for several seconds, mouth opening and closing helplessly with wordless squeaking sounds all she can muster, and her face feels like it’s on  _ fire _ —

“Team Seven, Konohagakure!”

Sakura tries not to sigh in relief, because that would be  _ beyond _ rude, but before she can even apologise for cutting things short she’s hauled sideways by two arms linked with her own. Throwing her teammates a confused and clearly shocked look, she’s met with two vastly different reactions: Sasuke stubbornly ignores her, jaw set and eyes focused on the jōnin they’re headed towards, while Naruto makes a vaguely offensive face back at where the others are watching, bringing two fingers to his eyes and then pointing them back at the boy—Rock Lee—in a clearly threatening gesture.  _ Really? _

She’s let go rather unceremoniously by Sasuke, the only thing keeping her standing even remotely straight being Naruto’s grip on her arm, and Sakura squawks unattractively as she fumbles to regain her balance. It takes all of her willpower not to cuff Sasuke up the head—though she  _ totally _ does smirk when Naruto takes a swipe at the Uchiha  _ brat _ for her—before turning a bashful gaze onto the jōnin with the senbon in his teeth. He looks positively tickled at the interactions, shoulders shaking with silent chuckles and a wide grin spreading across his lips.

“Hatake did say you were a handful, Pinky, and now I see he wasn’t joking.”

Sakura manages an indignant squeak of  _ “Pinky?” _ that’s just barely audible beneath the sound of Naruto’s uncontrollable guffawing beside her, but both of them snap their jaws shut when Sasuke, ever the suspicious one, levels his clear superior officer with a flat glare.  _ (Does Uchiha Sasuke think he’s just magically exempt from being charged with insubordination?) _

“What do you mean by  _ Hatake said?” _

“You’re a colourful bunch in more ways than one, Sunshine.” The man rolls his eyes at the way Sasuke bristles at the nickname, rolling the senbon along his teeth to the other side. The dull clink of metal against enamel puts Sakura on edge, part of her hyper aware of the fact that this man is a jōnin for a reason—the same rank as Kakashi-sensei. “Shiranui Genma. Your sensei and I are kind of old friends, though the bastard would never admit it. With the way he brags on you three—well, bragging for  _ him, _ anyway—I’d have to be damn  _ blind _ to miss you in a crowd.”

“They’re really something, huh? I like their style.” Anko is suddenly very much  _ there, _ looming over the three of them with a scroll in hand. Sakura sees the Konoha insignia carved into the base of the thick scroll, black lines of ink stretching across the surface in what looks like a complicated seal. Anko meets her eyes and tilts her head, reaching out to hand it to Sakura instead of to one of the boys. Sakura can’t help but to stare back at her in obvious confusion, though she only received one of Anko’s slightly deranged looking grins in return. “A gal like you is obviously the one keeping them in line. Remember those waivers you signed when you registered, kids? This trial is why. Hold onto that and follow the instructions, yeah?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Her answer is immediate, ingrained in her after years in the academy of respecting her elders and superiors, and Sakura flushes at the offended scoff Anko gives at the title. The dark haired woman walks away muttering under her breath, and Sakura’s sure she hears the word  _ ma’am _ more than once, uttered like the darkest swear word in existence. Perhaps Anko is sensitive about her age?

“You three, follow me.” Another Konoha jōnin wearing the standard-issue green flak vest joins them, his eyes hidden behind dark glasses and his hitai-ate angled over brown spikes of hair. Sakura straightens up and nods at his command, mind already whirling. “You’re entering from Gate Twelve.”

Tossing a fleeting look toward Genma, who offers Sakura a grin that she thinks is  _ almost _ encouraging, the three genin dutifully trail after the nameless jōnin, all three of them puzzling over possible strategies for the upcoming trial. Sakura’s sure she’s not the only one feeling anxious when Naruto’s fingers find her wrist, curling around her in much the same fashion as when he’d nervously gripped his oversized white shirt during their first sleepover, and she wonders if she imagines Sasuke running just a little closer to the two of them than usual as they head toward the gate they’re slotted to enter through.

“Once you enter this gate, it will be sealed off again. How you proceed is up to you,” the spectacled man turns to look at them as he holds the metal fence’s entrance open for them, “but I would suggest you hurry to open your scroll. Like Anko said, your success could hinge on another team’s speed, so you want to be quick.”

Without another word, he beckons them inward with a motion of his hand, and as one Team Seven launches into the forest, their pounding hearts lodged in their throats.

Sakura’s not really sure exactly how long they run for, the muted colours of the forest blurring by them like a dizzying painting, but eventually Sasuke leads them to a particularly dense gathering of trees. He runs up the side of one massive trunk as if he hadn’t once struggled with the mere concept of tree-walking, and Sakura marvels at his grace as she instinctively follows up after him, Naruto right on her heels. It doesn’t surprise her in the least that they default to Sasuke’s leadership without even speaking—he’s definitely the leader type, and he has this tone he uses that brooks no argument which comes in handy for implementing his and Sakura’s various strategies. She’s actually finding herself grateful that he’s wordlessly taken the role of team leader for them.

Once they reach the top, Sakura is awestruck by the incredible little haven they’ve somehow stumbled upon. The canopy of the trees forms a sort of hideaway, like a cave hidden in the shroud of full leaves and branches, and Sakura wonders how on Earth Sasuke had spotted it from the ground. It’s only high enough for Sakura to kneel in, her bun getting caught in the overhanging foliage, and deep enough that they’d all be squashed together if they tried to lie down, but it’s secure and well-hidden from prying eyes. It’s  _ perfect. _

“Alright, Naruto, you’re on trap duty. Make sure to leave a few false leads so that it’s not obvious we’re hiding up here.” Sasuke’s quick to begin delegating, his voice low and even despite the tension Sakura can see in the lines of his face. He really is a natural-born leader. She’s so caught up in her admiration of his cool demeanour and quick thinking that she almost misses his next command: “Sakura, scout the perimeter to be sure no one else is trying to set up camp around here. Leave the scroll with me and I’ll get it set out and divvy up our rations.”

Sakura and Naruto share a look before nodding to one another, turning to complete their given tasks. Sakura glances over her shoulder in time to see the blonde darting down one of the trees and pulling a length of wire from one of his shoulder pouches, not even bothering to look for where he’s reaching as he does so. Sakura can’t help the impressed huff of laughter at the sight, green eyes going wide as she realises she was wrong in her earlier assumptions.  _ Well, I’ll be damned, _ she thinks with no shortage of pride glowing in the lines of her grin,  _ Naruto really did have a system to his pouches instead of deciding to wing it. Who knew? _

Sakura turns her eyes back forward, smile still stubbornly in place even as her fingers fold easily into the seal for tiger, the appropriate amount of chakra funneling through her coils as she shunshins through the towering branches. Keeping a careful tally on her current chakra reserves, Sakura rockets through the canopies in a true test of her speed, pushing herself as much as reasonably possible just to see how quick she can actually be. She sends a steady flare of chakra to her optic nerves as she darts from limb to limb, stimulating them and sharpening her eyesight so that she can properly spy any signs of life around them. She spots more than one clone of Naruto’s in the underbrush laying traps, and she can’t help but smile at his dedication to lay out as many as possible, to keep them as  _ safe _ as he can. She’ll have to compliment him on his execution of Sasuke’s orders later, because she hadn’t even thought of him using his clones to cover more ground.

She returns to their chosen campsite after running a wide perimeter around their hideout, legs sprinting easily up the monstrous height of the tree she’d left down thanks to a steady flow of chakra through the soles of her feet. Her eyebrows furrow as she alights on the branch just outside of their chosen campsite, the realisation that her chakra reserves have been nearly halved by such a short-lived excursion knocking any confidence she’d had in her newfound speed firmly to the ground. She’s disappointed, but not really all that surprised if she’s being honest with herself. Kakashi-sensei had warned her that it would always be a challenge for her because no matter how hard she worked to flex her coils, she would never hold the same amount of chakra within her that Naruto or even Sasuke were capable of. Her disappointment and frustration must show on her face, too, because Sasuke narrows his eyes at her as she slides into place beside him.

“You’re taking third watch so you can replenish your reserves as quickly as possible,” Sasuke tells her immediately with a pointed frown. “We’ll probably need your speed for whatever we’re supposed to do.”

Sakura nods obediently, awareness turning inward as she focuses on the rather diminished pool of chakra she visualises within her mind. She’ll have to do something about this, find some way to make her chakra last longer or some way to store away chakra for emergencies. Is that even possible? Perhaps through some obscure fūinjutsu technique, though Sakura’s never paid much attention to fūinjutsu before. While she may have quite the attention for detail and her eidetic memory would surely help with memorising different sealing techniques, she’s self-aware enough to know she lacks the focus for it. Something in her brain just shuts down whenever she finds herself looking too deeply into fūinjutsu, like when she used to phase out what the bullies were saying until they’d snap her back to reality with a shove or a smack to her forehead. Still, maybe she’ll ask Kakashi-sensei about it.

“So how do we open it?” Naruto’s voice in her ear startles her out of her musings with a sharp gasp of surprise. She turns to stare at him in confusion as he slides in beside her, his legs folded and a wide smile on his face. He seems to find something in her expression funny, because he chuckles at her and gently bumps her shoulder with his own, pointedly turning his eyes away from her own to look over at the ink scrawled across their scroll.

“They didn’t really give clear instructions, did they?” Sakura taps her bottom with a thoughtful hum, tugging her legs up against her chest and resting her chin on top of her knees. She really isn’t a fan of fūinjutsu or of the way it seems to cause her mind to wander, but she still closes her eyes and tries to pull up every memory of attempting to study up on it in the library. She remembers reading about summoning scrolls and other such techniques, but without having read over them a multitude of times—or having re-written or drawn what she’s seen, which seems to be the best method of recalling with near-perfect clarity—she can’t really remember anything of importance. Unfortunately, all the texts and examples she’d seen on fūinjutsu just look like thick, meaningless scribbles to her. It’s no use.

With a frustrated sigh, Sakura reaches out to pick up the scroll, rolling it in her palm as she studies the lines of ink. It won’t even budge, and she’s sure if she took a kunai to it she’d just wreck the scroll and fail them all for her trouble. Its mechanism is entirely nonsensical to her, and in a moment of frustration she does the first thing she can think of: she channels her chakra into it, just a small burst of agitated energy. 

The reaction is small but instantaneous, and Sakura’s not exactly sure how exactly to describe it… but she feels  _ something. _ Something in the scroll reacts to her chakra, like when one acknowledges someone saying their name without actually looking up. She had no idea that a seal could be so responsive—in fact, she’d completely expected her little attempt to explode in her face—or so well designed. If she’s right about the key to opening their scroll, then it’s a perfect lock for testing teamwork  _ and _ chakra control, a method to make sure that there are no lone-wolf types trying to clear the exams alone. Genin are assigned to four-man squads for a reason, after all, and this test must serve as a reminder for any over-achievers who think they’re exempt from the system.

“That’s… actually kind of a genius strategy.” Sakura can’t keep the awe from her voice as she cradles the scroll in both of her hands. She looks up to see her teammates watching her with matching expectant expressions and she can’t help the sharp laugh at their expense, though she quickly sobers as Sasuke’s expression shifts further and further from any kind of amusement. “The seal reacted to my chakra, but it didn’t open because it was  _ only _ my chakra. Something was missing from the equation. Remember what Anko said about opening the scrolls?”

“An exercise in teamwork and in chakra control.” Sasuke says it slowly, his voice pitched low and his eyes darkening as it sinks in. He looks slightly vexed, and all at once Sakura remembers just how much her teammates have struggled with anything relating to chakra control so far. “Tch, annoying.”

“So we all just have to channel our chakra together? Kind of like what we did with the trees?” Naruto glances between the two of them, sky blue eyes wide and seemingly lit from within by an eagerness to get started as soon as possible. “That doesn’t sound so bad! Let’s do this, dattebayo!”

One of his hands instantly joins her own on the scroll, jittery with excitement, and slowly Sasuke’s own hand reaches out as well, though he only presses two fingers to the scroll.  _ (Doesn’t be realise that he’s just making it harder on himself, that it’s easier to channel to his whole hand instead of two individual fingers?) _ Still, Sakura doesn’t say anything, biting down on the comment to instead silently begin channeling a small amount of chakra into her palm. She watches as Sasuke struggles to pour the necessary amount of chakra into the seal, a small part of her wanting to grin at his trouble, but between Sasuke falling short and Naruto  _ completely dwarfing them both, _ the entire balance of their chakra is overthrown.

“We have to try and sync up the amount of chakra we’re putting out,” she tells them seriously, shifting her grip so that she’s holding the middle of the scroll and leaving them room to fully place their palms against the surface on either side of her hand. “It’s easier to just channel into your entire hand, so grab the scroll and focus on a steady stream of chakra—don’t put out too little, but don’t overpower the other two either, okay?”

Naruto grabs his handhold without any kind of hesitation, expression set in determination, but Sasuke is much more hesitant to join them. It’s an apt representation of their team as a whole: Sakura acting as a sort of bridge and trying to pull everyone together, Naruto eagerly following through for the people he can call his friends, and Sasuke petulantly holding out until the last possible second. All that’s missing is Kakashi-sensei pretending to be difficult but bending oh so easily to his two more boisterous students’ wills. Still, even with that missing crucial element of their team, they seem to find their balance after a moment or two of Naruto in particular fumbling—this time with too little chakra at first—but Sakura and Sasuke keep a steady feed going together on the same wavelength and sure enough, after just a little longer, Naruto seems to sync perfectly with the two of them.

The scroll opens with an audible click and both boys drop their hands, seemingly waiting for her to unfurl the scroll and show them what’s written within. She doesn’t want to admit how touched she is that Sasuke doesn’t instantly take the scroll from her hands, because she feels so silly for the warmth that blossoms in her chest at the notion, so she quickly and gently rolls the parchment beneath her fingers with steady hands. Written in clear, bold letters are their team’s instructions of  _ claim the scroll of Team Shiore from Kusagakure _ just above an impressive sketch of the three members of the squadron. A diagram of a small chunk of the Forest of Death is drawn across the scroll to indicate the gate their team came in and how far it is from the gate their target entered from. They’d come in through Gate Twelve, and it seems that Team Shiore had entered from Gate Fifteen, not too far from their approximate current location. So, their task was to ambush and overpower this team from Kusagakure and take their scroll?

Easy enough, in theory. 

They decide that Naruto will take first watch and Sasuke will take second, encouraging  _ (more like demanding) _ Sakura get some sleep while they keep an eye out. With a soft scoff of amusement, she moves to the far back corner of their little hideaway, curling up with a light blanket tossed over herself instead of trying to fanagle her way into a sleeping bag. She hears Naruto and Sasuke bickering softly at the entrance of the canopy, soft murmurings that start to rise in volume and then abruptly cut off before they become too loud with the sound of someone being cuffed—Naruto probably—that results in hasty, irritated whispers after a beat of silence. Smiling to herself, Sakura falls asleep to the sound of her team, part of her wishing that Kakashi-sensei was here just to complete the usual relaxing lullaby of Team Seven.

* * *

 

**August** **2nd 996** **— Konohagakure**

It’s been almost two weeks since her last nightmare. While she had been recovering decently from Wave, the mission her team was sent out on shortly after had completely shattered any sort of tangible progress she’d made on her own and she’d needed to assistance of a professional to help her sort through it all. After the first few “mandatory shrink sessions,” Sakura had slowly felt more and more capable of pulling herself from her nightmares and of compartmentalising everything she was dealing with, at least until she could spare the time to sit down and talk some of her fears and doubts out with her therapist.  _ Seeking comfort from those that experienced the traumatic event with you is normal, _ she’d been told when voicing how much better she felt when she was with her team,  _ but you have to remember to let them support  _ **_you_ ** _ as much as you support them. _ It took longer than she would have really liked, but eventually she’d felt like it was easier to breathe, and Sakura had been sleeping better than ever recently as she continued feeling like she was growing closer and closer to her team.

Which is why it’s such a shock when her usual dreams of faded flower fields and deft fingers weaving daisy chains and laughing blue eyes suddenly shifts, darkening and clouding over until everything is tinged with grey. The checkerboard of flowers beneath her feet suddenly turns to damp dirt, soaked through with the blood of her teammates, and Sakura is horrified to see Naruto’s lifeless eyes staring back at her from the ground. Kakashi-sensei reaches for her, his chest a riddle of gaping wounds and remnants of his flak vest, but a hand snagging a fistful of her hair and hauling her backward stops her from rushing to his aid. She’s helpless, flailing uselessly against the white-knuckled grip in her hair, and she can only watch as the light fades from Sasuke’s eyes, as Kakashi-sensei tries futilely to crawl after her. He’s abruptly forced from her vision as the hand yanks her back and leaves Sakura staring into the wild eyes of Zabuza for one long, agonisingly breathless second. She tries to scream, to cry out for Kakashi-sensei, for Naruto, for Sasuke… and then her head is shoved beneath frigid waves, water filling her lungs and choking her as darkness creeps along her vision and the grip on her hair remains cruelly steadfast. 

_ (She can’t help—she can’t reach them—she’s drowning—) _

Waking up feels like that first night after Wave. Sakura snaps awake, eyes wide and pupils blown wide, a sharp intake of breath forcing down the scream that she’s too cowardly to let escape from her throat. Her death grip on the blanket is trembling and clammy, her heart hammering painfully against her ribcage, and it’s not until after several of those frantic heartbeats pass that she finally becomes aware enough of her surroundings to recall the events of yesterday. The walls of green that surround her slowly shift into focus, the mist she’d seen in front of her eyes and the brisk chill of the water she’d sworn was still dripping from her hair slipping away, and it takes her several seconds to pull her awareness firmly into the here and now once again. She turns her head slowly to peer at the form of Naruto that’s lying by her side, curled toward her with his fist tucked against his lips, blissfully ignorant of the unbearable panic his teammate is still caught up in. Letting out a low, shaky breath of relief that sounds almost like a whisper of a sob, Sakura pulls herself into a seated position and rubs at her eyes, fingers trembling as they wipe away the ghosts of tears clinging to her lashes. 

_ (She feels like she’s damp, just like she had been in the dream—drowning, she’d been drowning—she could only watch—) _

Sakura glances up to see Sasuke silently peering at her from the tree branch just outside of their canopy, dark eyes guarded but watchful of her every move. She offers him what she hopes is a reassuring smile, the lines shaky and not quite reaching her eyes, before she slowly begins the slow crawl around Naruto so she can head to the exit. Feeling decidedly less cramped once she’s out in the open, Sakura gingerly situates herself next to Sasuke outside at the guard point they’d apparently established. She pushes a lock of hair from her face, loose from her bun and damp with the cold sweat of her nightmare, and turns to wordlessly gesture for him to go in and get some rest. She doesn’t trust her voice quite yet, doesn’t trust that it won’t waver and quake the way her fingers do against her sides, so she just hopes he understands she’s indicating that he can end his shift early. He doesn’t move a single muscle, expression held carefully blank as he regards her like something on her face is suddenly the most riveting thing to him.

“What was it?” He doesn’t have to clarify. She knows exactly what he’s asking.

“Wave,” she answers truthfully after a beat of silence, looking away from him in what she hopes is a clear dismissal. Her eyes struggle to focus on the gloomy darkness of the forest instead, her mind still several miles away. 

Sasuke hesitates a moment longer by her side, not speaking another word for several seconds, before he eventually crawls inside and lies down for his turn to sleep. Sakura doesn’t look back at him or bid him a good night, but she’s sure he doesn’t mind her momentary lapse in good manners. She wonders if he’ll even sleep anyway—she wouldn’t be surprised if he stayed awake just in case, not trusting her to be able to keep watch in the state she’s in. She’s not sure she trusts herself, really. Her head feels heavy, her face numb, and she’s sure he realises she’s grappling with herself all over again. She feels like she’s reliving the days after Wave all over again: the paranoia, the heart-stopping terror, the buzz of anxious energy beneath her skin demanding she  _ runrunrun— _

The sun is barely rising, streams of muted light peeking through the thick foilage overhead, when a trap is triggered far too close to them for Sakura’s liking. The high pitched chime of a bell tells Sakura that a kunai trap has been set off, and she’s on her feet within a single heartbeat with a kunai of her own drawn in preparation. 

Sasuke is up before she even says anything, suddenly crouched by her side outside of their canopy, and Sakura can’t tell if it’s confirmation of her theory that he wouldn’t sleep or if he really is just that light of a sleeper. Naruto is slower to rise than their raven haired teammate, blinking away bleariness as the sound of his handiwork registers in his mind. One glance at the two of them has Naruto just as awake and alert as his teammates, scrambling from their hiding place to peer down below in what she assumes is the direction his trap has gone off in.

The three of them wordlessly slip off into the tops of the trees, eyes trained below to look for either a wounded shinobi or a corpse, though none of them want to voice the fact that they’re  _ all _ hoping for the latter.

It takes them no longer than three minutes to stumble upon the aftermath. Two bodies lay splayed out against the grass in twin pools of blood, their torsos riddled with numerous kunai. They don’t seem to be moving, but Sakura’s not willing to risk going out and exposing themselves without confirmation. She glances to Sasuke with a silent request that he check for genjutsu, relieved to see him activate his Sharingan immediately to peer down below, leaned forward with his elbows braced on his knees. He stares for several seconds before his fingers reach out to flutter against her upper arm in their code, three rapid signals forming a short but concise report:  _ no genjutsu, definitely dead, injured teammate nearby. _

Sakura feels sick even as she nods her head.

The third member of the squad is crouched against a nearby tree, just barely hidden from Sakura’s view. They’re just sitting there, not moving a single muscle, a kunai clearly embedded in their leg. Sakura channels chakra into her eyes and peers more closely at them, narrowing her eyes as she sees the headband across their forehead and the matching ones on the corpses of their apparent teammates. Rapidly she signs against Sasuke’s shoulder, suddenly grateful they’d thought up indications for village shinobi and even missing-nin:  _ Kusagakure? _

“Hello, little Konoha genin.”

Sakura feels Sasuke seize beneath her hands and hears Naruto’s sharp intake of breath behind her, her own wide eyes trained on the Kusa shinobi’s own as they peer right back up at the three of them with no hint of surprise in their expression. They don’t make a move, seemingly just staring up at them as if in expectation, and Sakura glances down at their left hand with a growing sense of dread: they’re holding their scroll out towards her team, lips pulled up in an eerie sort of smile.

“Should we risk it?” Sakura asks lowly, not taking her eyes off of them as she speaks.

“There’s no genjutsu down there—the kunai in their leg is definitely real.” Sasuke looks eager to head down and handle this confrontation. “An already injured enemy? If that’s the scroll we need, we couldn’t have asked for a better set-up.”

Sakura’s instincts are a blaring warning siren that they should be careful, but Sasuke seems confident and Naruto looks like he really just wants to leave as quickly as possible, so she just pushes her concerns to the back of her mind and nods. As one, the three of them leap from their hiding place, dropping to stand just outside of striking distance of the downed shinobi. They keep their formation tight: Sasuke in the middle, her to the shinobi’s left, and Naruto to their right, pinning the shinobi to the tree with no direction to run in. It was a tracking and hostage formation that Kakashi-sensei had taught them, one of many that he’d made sure they’d be able to fall into if for whatever reason he wasn’t with them any more.

_ (She’s going to demand Team Seven simply become Team Kakashi if they get promoted—she won’t let them get separated. She’s sure they’ll fight with her, too.) _

“We’ll be taking that scroll of yours, if you don’t mind.” Sasuke’s tone is casual, as if he’s remarking on the weather instead of subtly threatening another human being’s life.

“Oh? You need my scroll?” This seems to delight the shinobi for some reason, their lips stretching into a smile that’s far too wide for their face. They lift their hand with the scroll up to eye level, letting it roll back in forth in much the same way Anko had done when she was instructing all of them on the procedures… and then, that unnerving euphoric expression still in place, they tilt their head back and  _ swallow the scroll whole. _ Like a snake swallowing its prey, just one fluid motion and then an audible  _ gulp _ before it disappears entirely.

The sight is so much of a shock that none of them are able to react when the shinobi lashes out in a wide arc with their arm, the limb elongating in an unnatural way and catching Naruto in the throat. The swipe sends the blonde careening back into a tree with enough force that the bark shatters beneath his body and a  _ crack _ resonates through the forest, louder than thunder in Sakura’s ears, and he drops to the ground below in a hail of splinters. Sakura can’t tell if that sound was his skull, his spine, or his ribs—but  _ something _ is definitely and undeniably broken, and that realisation sends Sakura into a full-blown panic mode. She’s only barely read up on first aid, and she has no idea how to fix anything worse than a broken rib… if Naruto’s injuries are worse than that, what in the hell are they supposed to do? Try and rush him to the tower?

She scrambles for her fallen teammate with one wild, terrified glance towards Sasuke’s own wide crimson eyes, fingers already weaving the seal and launching herself forward with every ounce of speed her shunshin has to offer. She hears Sasuke doing what he can to cover her, his voice rougher than normal as he all but screams the name of the Katon that he hurls mercilessly toward the Kusa shinobi. The flames explode against the tree, their target having already moved, and Sakura doesn’t bother even looking at the way Sasuke and the shinobi explode into a flurry of motion, dropping to her knees beside Naruto and fumbling to check his vitals. He can’t die here. None of them are supposed to die here. They’re supposed to breeze in and out, get their promotions, and win all the bets for Kakashi-sensei that they can—

She remembers this from Wave, she’s sure, the overwhelming dread that’s suddenly choking her… but even Zabuza hadn’t been able to inspire this kind of fear in her, a fear that reaches up with frigid fingers and curls around her throat. Sakura feels like she’s being strangled, her windpipe being crushed beneath blood-coated hands, and it’s like that box she’d so expertly tucked away to be dealt with earlier this morning is violently ripped open and dumped over her head. The wave of  _ Killing Intent _ hits her so hard that Sakura actually forgets to breathe, to think, her mind suddenly trapped in a loop of the same nightmare of this morning. She’s in Wave and the mist is clogging her lungs, drowning her, she’s being carved open and her head is being shoved under water and she’s going to die,  _ her team’s going to die— _

Something in her awareness shifts, changes, and suddenly another hand grabs her hair just like before. Her head is roughly yanked back, neck protesting the sudden movement, and she stares uncomprehendingly at the face staring back at her. It’s not Zabuza whose hand is twisted in her hair, using the kunai she’d so proudly wrapped up in it as a handhold, but a Kusa shinobi. Kusagakure… why is there a Kusagakure shinobi here? Why is she here, again? She feels like she should know their face. She thinks she hears Sasuke screaming for her, too. He sounds so far away.

Why would Sasuke be screaming her name?

“Silly girl,” the shinobi tells her with a condescending smile, shaking her head by her hair. Sakura stares uncomprehendingly back, her face numb and her limbs so heavy and her mind still screaming that she’s in danger, Wave means danger, where is her team? “Such easy targets,  _ Sasuke-kun. _ Your team really doesn’t deserve you.”

She doesn’t understand and it seems the shinobi has grown tired of her lack of response, because they roll their eyes and suddenly head head is pitched back and she’s  _ flying. _ Her legs leave the ground and she swears she rotates in the air, a heartachingly long moment of defying gravity as she stares up at the sunlight trying futilely to sprinkle into the forest. Her arms are pinwheeling, her legs feeling terrifyingly boneless, and Sakura frowns when she realises that she doesn’t recall any trees being on the bridge—

The jarring impact of her ribs slamming into one of their trunks is enough to bring her back to reality, blinking away the stars beneath her eyelids as she struggles to remember how to breathe. She struggles to pull herself up, brain still swimming, unable to remember where exactly she is for several seconds. Her mind is trying to catch up, to process what she’s just been through, seemingly not capable of the mental gymnastics required to firmly root itself in the present after being so thoroughly muddled for who knows how long. Pushing herself onto her elbows and grimacing at the sharp pain that lances through her chest at the action, Sakura absently wonders if either of the boys know how to wrap a cracked or broken rib properly. She’s mentally picturing their reactions to her trying to teach them when a scream grabs her attention and shatters the fuzzy, distracted mindset she’d wandered into.

Sakura’s head jerks up just in time to see several things she can’t seem to wrap her mind around. One: that freak’s neck has elongated, just like what they’d done when they’d struck out at Naruto. Two: they had apparently lashed their  _ head _ out towards Sasuke this time, and it looks as if they were aiming to sink their teeth into his shoulder. Three: Naruto has his arms around a shell-shocked Sasuke, his chest pressed against the Uchiha’s back, and his arm is clamped within the jaws of the equally surprised Kusa shinobi. Sakura stares in confusion as everything seems to freeze, the shinobi’s wide eyes staring into Naruto’s own, and then the shinobi jerks away with enough speed to unbalance Naruto and Sasuke.

And then Naruto  _ screams. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 01/13/19: Updating a day earlier than scheduled! Hope you guys enjoyed it!
> 
> This chapter is extra special for me because not only does it mark the beginning of Big Changes™ to the plot, but it’s also the chapter with which all the exciting changes to the story itself drop as well! As you can see, I decided on a new title for this fic: _Learning Curve._ The reason for the change is because the name _“butterfly effect”_ was apparently leading people to believe this was a time-travel fic, so I decided I’d change not only the name but the description and the tags as well. So, proper tags (with the exclusion of relationship tags, because some are still up in the air and I don’t want to get anyone’s hopes up if I wind up changing them) are in place for this story, which is the main installment for the series it belongs to, _Variations on a Theme._ There are currently two companion fics in planning/drafting stages from Sasuke and Kakashi’s POV, so they will be added to the series as they get published! I’ll be updating on tumblr, so feel free to check on  @ishi-ryoku for any future updates or sneak peaks!
> 
> I noticed people wondering about the length of this fic, so I wanted you guys to rest assured that this is very much going to be a long, long process. I strive for 7-10k length chapters at minimum, and I have around 40-41 chapters loosely drafted already! This chapter was actually broken into two after it got _way_ too long, so that number fluctuates as I polish the story. I have plans to address a lot of what happens in canon, but in my own way, because as you’ve seen from this chapter… Team 7’s “stick together” mantra brings about some interesting twists and turns. I hope you’ll enjoy the ride!
> 
> Thank you to everyone who gave their feedback for romantic ships! I’ve had a few possibilities in my head already since the first draft of this story and seeing the opinions of my readers (regardless of who they shipped or whether they wanted any romance at all) was really helpful for me. Hopefully you'll like what I have in store! See you next week!


	6. a model citizen of doubt

**August** **2nd 996** **— Konohagakure**

Sakura has no idea what to do in this situation.

The handbooks don’t cover a situation where a _monster dressed as a shinobi_ attacks your teammate by biting them. She has no idea what this thing really is—and it is absolutely a _thing,_ not a person, because no person alive can do the things they’re doing right now—and she has no idea what they did to Naruto, but she does know that she has to do something, anything, to put a stop to it. She needs to do literally _anything_ to protect her downed teammates, to put some kind of buffer between them and this monster. Do proctors come into the forest to observe them? It’s possible—they’d had eyes on the genin all through the examination so far, so it makes sense that maybe they’re somewhere in the forest with them. Maybe she can buy some time until a proctor decides to investigate the screaming.

They can’t really miss it, after all—Naruto hasn’t stopped screaming since he started, his grip still locked on a clearly confused Sasuke as they lie sprawled in the grass, and the sound is absolute agony to listen to. His screams barely stop long enough for him to pull in frantic, ragged breaths and the sound is like glass shards in her heart, a fist squeezing her chest and leaving her breathless. She’s never seen Naruto or _anyone_ in so much pain, never been exposed to such a raw sound. She doesn’t know what to do.

Her eyes flicker to the monster wearing a human face and she’s surprised to find that they don’t seem to know what to do, either. She’s not sure if that’s reassuring or even more terrifying. They’d been aiming for Sasuke and Naruto had shielded him—whether by purposefully shoving his arm in the way or by simply having his arm in the wrong place at the wrong time, she hadn’t been able to see—so perhaps whatever they’d been aiming to do had been specifically tailored to Sasuke? Maybe it wasn’t compatible with Naruto? The moment Naruto had been bitten that amused mask they’d been wearing had melted away into pure shock, and now Sakura sees something new flickering in their eyes.

_Fear._

Sakura’s first thought isn’t to wonder at what could make this freak feel fear. It isn’t even to wonder if perhaps she should be afraid, either. No, Sakura’s first thought is that fear means hesitation, and hesitation gives her time to _put herself between her teammates and the threat._ Her chakra has been relatively untouched by this encounter, her body taking more of a beating than her reserves, which means that it’s child’s play for her to weave her fingers into the proper seal and flash in front of Sasuke and Naruto. Her ribs are protesting, a sharp stabbing pain in her chest that makes her wonder if perhaps she’d broken more than just a rib, but Sakura still draws a kunai and stands defiantly before her teammates with a solid stance and trembling fists.

Their opponent looks at her, bright eyes a flicker of movement that has her tensing for them to lash out, but then their eyes flash back behind her and they freeze again. Confusion dies on the tip of her tongue as a new sensation washes over Sakura, not unlike the killing intent the Kusa-imposter had been leaking earlier. This is different, though, and somehow that much more terrifying—it’s not fear of death or memories of Wave that this feeling brings to the surface of her mind, it’s something far more primal. Something decidedly _other._ It’s indescribable.

It’s rage, white-hot and setting the entire clearing ablaze.

A panicked cry from Sasuke has Sakura whirling, forgetting entirely about the threat she’d been so focused on before, and she realises exactly why the monster in front of her had fallen so still in shock. Monster they may be, but they pale in comparison to the killing intent that Naruto is currently exuding—or, at least, she _assumes_ it’s Naruto exuding it. Black lines are creeping along his skin in nonsensical patterns, spiraling out from his arm and crawling up his skin. Sasuke’s expression is tight, his hand trying to pry his other wrist from Naruto’s grip, and Sakura realises that his skin is literally _steaming_ in the open air. She almost reaches out to help when Naruto’s skin literally catches flame, a shock of red-orange crawling along his body so fast it swallows the black symbols on his skin.

“That’s _impossible—”_ She feels inclined to agree with the Kusa-imposter, monster or not.

Sakura realises it isn’t that Naruto’s actually caught on fire… it’s a thick shroud of _chakra_ covering him from head to toe, bubbling like the boiling water used for preparing his beloved ramen. It flickers along his body like an open flame, wisps of colour licking the air around his prone form, and forms a sort of _shape_ around him that Sakura’s never seen. As far as she knows, chakra just doesn’t _do_ that. She thinks she’s imagining things when she sees long horns in the shape—or are those ears?—but she knows she’s not imagining the way Naruto’s little “whiskers” _(which she’d always thought were just a unique clan thing, like the Inuzuka)_ have become deep, jagged marks in his cheeks or the way his normally blunted fingernails are elongating into vicious looking claws. She can’t help but glance to Sasuke in horrified curiosity, the question of _did that Kusa-nin do this?_ dying on the tip of her tongue when Sasuke’s crimson eyes flicker behind her.

“Sakura!”

Whirling on her heel, Sakura realises that even with his warning she won’t be fast enough to dodge the Kusa-imposter’s swipe. Though they’re striking out at Sakura, she can clearly see the near-crazed expression they have pinned on her raven-haired teammate; they’re obviously trying to get her out of their way to get to Sasuke one more time, maybe to do to him what they’d already done to poor Naruto. Their arm lashes out toward her just like they’d done to Naruto, limb stretched out like a grotesque whip of flesh headed straight for her, and Sakura steels herself by lifting her kunai in a reckless bid to take a swipe at the arm before it inevitably slams her into yet _another_ tree. She won’t let them get to Sasuke without a fight, after all.

Before the blow can connect, before it can even get close to her, a hail of kunai and shuriken has the Kusa-imposter spinning back and away from their initial position in a morbid fascination twist of limbs. _(It’s like they’re made of elastic, stretching and bending as they whirl away, and part of Sakura can’t help but compare them to the little ties she and Ino used to put in their hair.)_ Sakura’s eyes jerk to where the onslaught of weaponry came from on instinct, the sigh of relief caught in her throat and choking her in her confusion at the sight of their saviour. It isn’t a proctor that’s come to their aid, or Anko, it’s not even a chūnin or jōnin standing on the low-hanging branch with shuriken clenched between their fingers.

It’s _Karin._

“No one’s beating Haruno Sakura but me!” The girl’s shock of red hair is a welcome sight against the gloom of the forest, her brilliant eyes lit with a defiant fire that matches her even stance. Even Sakura’s unenhanced eyesight can see the slight tremble in Karin’s arms and legs, but the girl doesn’t balk or shy away from this confrontation, even in the face of someone Sakura’s _sure_ is way out of her league. “So beat it, ugly!”

This Kusa-imposter is in no way a genin, and Sakura’s sure if Karin had been able to suss out Sakura’s identity as the one who took her paper, she’s caught on to that fact, too.

Sakura can see through the bravado easily, and she’s sure the Kusa-imposter can just as well. Flicking her gaze from Karin’s stubborn expression to the clearly amused look on the monster’s, Sakura almost calls out a warning. She can’t let Karin get hurt for trying to help them. She can’t have that on her conscience. If anyone else gets hurt here, Sakura’s sure she won’t be able to crawl out of that particular hole of guilt. The image of Karin—or anyone else, any other innocent person—getting bitten or thrown against a tree stirs something painful in Sakura’s chest. The idea of someone else lying there limp and broken in Sakura’s stead isn’t something she can bear. Before she can cry out for Karin to _run away,_ though, Karin turns a determined glare of her own on Team Seven.

“Run for it!” She bellows just before an explosion rocks the clearing, trees blasted apart and chunks of earth splintering beneath the Kusa-imposter’s feet. Sakura’s instincts are the only thing that keep her from being thrown back by the force of the blast, chakra-coated soles of her boots keeping her rooted to the ground even as she’s nearly blown off her feet. The genius of Karin’s plan has the corners of Sakura’s lips twitching: Karin had thrown _only_ kunai with explosive tags on them—she’d just used a henge to keep the Kusa-imposter, and Sakura as well, from realising her plan. _She’s clever,_ Sakura admits to herself with a grin, the first seeds of hope blossoming in her chest. _We might just owe her our lives._

Sakura ducks and spins on her heel in the scant few heartbeats she has to react, dashing toward Sasuke and Naruto while her mind whirls at almost dizzying speeds. They need a plan. They need a course of action so that all three of them—four of them, now—can walk away from this with their lives. They have to make a run for it, but where do they go? Between that massive explosion and Naruto’s continuous screams of agony, Sakura’s sure someone has heard and will come to investigate. She’s never hoped for adult supervision more than she is in this moment, a fervent prayer to let there be proctors in the forest and that they be nearby a constant mantra silently falling from her lips. She reaches out to grab a fistful of Sasuke’s shirt, to pull the boys along with her, but before she can even touch him the world explodes all over again.

It’s not the work of explosive tags this time, though, that catches Sakura across the chest and sends her flying across the clearing. All she can see in the haze of her own vision is Sasuke’s expression—eyes wide, expression caught between horror and rage—and Naruto’s arm held out toward her, a massive clawed arm of chakra extended from him. Naruto stares back at her with red eyes that don’t even recognise her, eyes that seem like they’re looking right through her, and Sakura forgets how to breathe as she sails through the air, hand extended towards his own and knowing he’s not reaching out _for_ her. He’s not reaching out to take her hand, he’s not even reaching out in denial.

He’s what knocked her away from them, she realises distantly, her mind going silent as her body hits the ground and _rolls._ Everything is now a blur around her, a wet painting smeared and running together in her eyes, blood in the water and spiraling all around her no matter where she looks. Sakura’s more than sure that her ribs are broken at this point, several of them in fact, and breathing is suddenly a _lot_ harder than it had been earlier. She feels like she’s trying to breathe underwater, like how she’d always dreamt it felt when Zabuza held her head under the waves, but this time it’s _real_ and it’s not just the death of her nightmares that she’s experiencing.

She’s drowning in her own blood.

The thought doesn’t incite panic in her like it does in her dreams. Everything slows down, her mind heavy with a sort of grogginess that makes her wish she could somehow lay _further_ down than she already is, and Sakura wonders if she’s dying. Is this what happens when you’re close to dying? Once, she’d wanted to ask Kakashi-sensei if he’d ever almost died before… but, well, that’d be insensitive wouldn’t it? Ah, well. Sakura blinks the world back into focus, the edges fuzzy like the old photographs of her mom’s genin team that she’d always kept tucked away like a shameful secret. Everything is muted—the colours, the sounds, the pain, muffled like she’s an outsider looking in. An observer. She hears Naruto’s screams finally tapering off, sees the smear of red light flicker out of her view, and all she can think is _please don’t be dead, too._ Kakashi-sensei would be so pissed if they both got themselves killed in here. Geez, how many bets would he lose if two of his students died in here?

“It seems my visit is being cut short.” The monster’s voice—monsters shouldn’t have voices that sound like velvet, even if it incites the feeling of running her fingers the wrong way along velvet—drags Sakura’s brain back to the present. She tries to turn her head, which only serves to make her vision swim all over again, and eventually she settles for blearily focusing on the Kusa-imposter out of the corner of her eyes instead. She thinks they’re looking at Sasuke again, that oddly perverse fixation on their face all over again, and a protective instinct flares helplessly in her chest. “I’ll have to visit you again, Sasuke-kun. Until next time.”

Then, as if on some unspoken command, they vanish. No shunshin. No leap into the trees. No hand signs. Nothing. It’s just that they’re there one second and the next… they’re not.

Everything is quiet for a long, long moment, and Sakura wonders if the monster is actually gone. It’s like the entire world stopped to listen, to watch and see if they’d return from the inky-black shadows to lash out at Sasuke again, to see if this was simply too good to be true. Finally, Sakura closes her eyes and sighs in relief, pleased that at least Sasuke and Naruto made it out alive. The fear that she’s always felt simmering beneath the surface since her close call in Wave is curiously absent now, leaving only a deafening sort of silence in her mind. Her heart stutters in her chest and she chokes on a wet cough, her insides feeling as if she’s being carved open from the inside, and it’s like that single sound erupts the world around her into chaos.

“Sakura!” She can hear Sasuke’s voice, muddled and so very far away. He sounds stressed. That boy needs a _nap._ She hopes Kakashi-sensei can at least inspire him to mellow out a little. _“Sakura!”_

“H-hey—! Don’t you _dare_ die!” This voice is closer to her, the sound of it not nearly as muffled as Sasuke’s. It takes Sakura a little longer than she’d like to admit to remember not only the sound of Karin’s voice ringing in her ears, but also just Karin’s mere presence in the forest with them. She’s not sure why that creep had taken off as if hell were on their heels, but she’s glad Karin is safe and that her show of bravado hadn’t gotten her killed. “Haruno! Hey!”

Sakura becomes vaguely aware that someone’s hands are in her hair, lifting her head up from the grass, and it’s that one single shift that sparks a landslide of sensations throughout her body. Gone is the distant fogginess she’d been so blissfully lost in, replaced by the sudden roar of flames, a wildfire of pain branching out across her chest like spider webbing cracks in the teacup she’d dropped the day before the exams. Her chest positively _aches,_ it’s impossible to breathe—her shoulder and collarbone are on fire, burning at the forefront of her awareness and pushing everything else to the back of her mind the moment she notices it. She drags in a ragged breath, a gasp of pain, but she’s choked off as her body’s natural reaction shifts to coughing. The pain of her chest constricting leaves black spots dancing in her vision, and Sakura wonders when she opened her eyes in the first place. It’s not like she can discern one blurred colour from the next right now.

Something warm is shoved against her bloodied lips, forcing her mouth open despite her whimpers at the motion, and then Karin’s commanding voice cuts through the haze of pain like a knife.

“Bite.”

Some part of Sakura’s brain is confused at the notion, her brain not really fully comprehending just what she’s being asked to do and what she’s even doing it to, but she follows Karin’s order without really thinking. A small part of her wonders what biting would help her accomplish, the paranoia that usually creeps along her spine suspiciously quiet as Sakura clamps her jaw down on whatever has been so forcefully placed in her mouth. She doesn’t mean to put so much force behind it, especially because she’s not entirely sure what she’s biting in the first place, but one inhale has her chest alight with agony all over again and Sakura reflexively clamps her jaw down to stifle her cry of pain.

There’s a moment of that burning agony before her pain feels like it’s being pushed away by something akin to a cool sea breeze, the fire in her veins extinguished and the scars left behind soothed by invisible hands. Breathing becomes steadily easier, her lungs greedily sucking in all the air she’d been struggling to get just moments ago, and she revels in the fact that her chest no longer feels like a grotesque pincushion. The burning across her shoulder and collarbone fades and Sakura swears she can actually _feel_ her skin stitching together, her entire body feeling inexplicably whole when she’d been feeling completely shattered just before, like her body was nothing more than shards of porcelain scattered across the forest floor.

This time, when Sakura opens her eyes again, she can see her surroundings clear as day. The trees overhead, the diluted sunlight flickering through the leaves, the splintered trees that surround their little clearing… and Karin, leaning over her with an anxiously expectant expression. Sakura frowns up at her, confused, for several seconds before the knowledge that she feels fine rears its head. She jerks up in Karin’s arms, wide green eyes flicking all across the clearing for any sign of that Kusa-imposter looming in the shadows, and eventually her gaze lands on Naruto’s prone form, still half-draped across an equally shocked Sasuke’s lap.

“You… healed me?” She’s mindful enough to question her sudden recovery, though she doesn’t look at Karin as she speaks; instead, her eyes are still fixed on Sasuke’s face, taking in the sheet-white pallor of his skin and the minute tremble she can see in his limbs as he seems to look over her with the same intensity. Her eyes drift to look at Naruto, eyebrows furrowing as Sakura realises that his breathing is laboured and his face is screwed up in pain.

“I—uh…” Karin seems unsure of how to respond, and Sakura pulls her gaze from her teammates to look at the redhead once more. This seems to only fluster the girl more, because her cheeks flush and she looks away, fingers nervously adjusting the frames of her glasses. It looks like her bravado and ferociousness has slipped out the window in the wake of all that’s happened. It’s a shame, too, because Sakura thinks such a loud personality suits her just fine. “It’s… just a clan trait, that’s all.”

“Thank you.” Sakura is wholly sincere in her gratitude, her voice soft with awe of such an amazing ability and of the fact that Karin had used it to save her. When Karin doesn’t look back at her, Sakura can only hope her voice manages to convey her gratefulness, though an awkwardness settles in the pit of her stomach at the sudden loss of conversation. She doesn’t waste any time waiting to see if the redhead will get over her abrupt onset of shyness, deciding to instead push up onto trembling legs and scramble to her teammates’ sides. Sakura nearly trips twice in her haste to reach them, frantic to make sure they’ve all three made it out of this mess alive, and as she drops to her knees in front of Sasuke she feels like she’s going to choke on her tears.

Sakura is careful as she gingerly reaches out to place a hand on Sasuke’s shoulder, fully aware that he’s still not as open to casual touch as Naruto is. She’s shocked when his own hand cups her elbow—his fingers touching her so carefully that she wonders if he’s afraid she might break—but she doesn’t hesitate to offer him a wobbly smile, thoroughly pleased to see his expression relax if only a little. She immediately turns her teary eyes to Naruto, her other hand gingerly reaching out to touch his scraped cheek _(a small part of her is terrified she’ll be thrown away again, but she can’t not check on him—)_ with shaking fingers. His skin is so hot that she actually jerks her fingers away in surprise, mind flipping seamlessly into medical-textbook mode. Naruto is burning up, cheeks flushed and skin covered in a thin sheen on sweat—he’s so feverish that Sasuke actually looks uncomfortable with so much of the blonde’s skin touching him, though he’s made no effort to move him.

“He’s got a fever…” Sakura exchanges a worried glance with Sasuke, biting her lip as she brushes Naruto’s hair from his eyes and presses the back of her hand to his forehead. Her fingers are actually _damp_ from just touching him. She tosses a wide-eyed glance over her shoulder at the redhead that’s now looking over at the three of them with an equally concerned expression, voice pleading even as guilt prickles at her scalp for asking in the first place. “Karin-san, that healing ability of yours… can you fix whatever that freak did to Naruto?”

Karin’s bright eyes widen at the request and she hurriedly pushes to stand, jogging to join the two of them and kneeling to peer at Naruto’s unconscious face. The way her bright eyes flicker along the lines of his face before settling on the arm that had been bitten has Sakura following her line of sight, the pink-haired girl’s lungs seizing up at the foreign mark that _definitely_ hadn’t been there before. It looks like someone had deliberately painted along his skin with ink, but Sakura can see that the edges of it move just slightly, writhing, _like it’s alive._ Karin simply stares at him, deathly silent for so long that Sakura feels like she might explode. The redhead’s face is a mixture of concern and confusion, and Sakura has to actually bite her lip to keep herself from snapping at her to speak up and _answer the damn question._

“I can only do it once a day,” Karin finally admits, though it’s clear she feels unbearably guilty about it. Even as she says it, Sakura swears that Karin looks like she’s still considering trying anyway. The look on her face has Sakura feeling horrible for asking all over again. “If I did it again so soon, I’d… I just can’t. I’m sorry.”

“H-hey!” The sight of the redhead looking near tears has Sakura quick to throw her hands up in surrender. “It’s okay! I’m sorry for asking! I had no idea. You’ve helped us so much, Karin-san, and—”

“Yo, you kids alright?”

Sakura would have been willing to put money down that she would never in her life be this grateful to hear Mitarashi Anko’s voice before today. The cadence of her voice in the trees, that husky tone of hers and the playful lilt to her words… Sakura swears that in this moment, in the aftermath of all the stress and terror that had saturated this little clearing, the sound of Anko’s voice is on par with the Gods themselves singing their praises unto the world. Sakura perks up like a wilting flower being given fresh water and sunlight for the first time in days, eyes wide and head snapping to look at the older woman as she drops from the branch she’d been standing on. Her expression has a dangerous sort of edge to it—nothing like that chaos-loving grin she’d been wearing ever since they’d met her.

The way her dark eyes look them all over, narrowing as she glances from the smeared blood all across Sakura’s face to the still burning slashes across her shoulder and chest—the skin is still tender and tight, even if the bleeding as been stopped—to Naruto’s now prone form, makes Sakura’s hair stand on end. She looks _serious._

Something tells Sakura that a serious Anko is a deadly Anko.

Sakura hurries to explain the situation as best she can, trying to remember how to properly give a mission report while her limbs are trembling and her heart is hammering. She must be quite the sight since Karin and Sasuke keep looking at her with wide eyes as she speaks, their expressions wary, like she’s some trapped animal writhing with feral energy. The adrenaline that has been pumping through her veins with every beat of her heart is wearing thin, diluting with every passing second, and Sakura wonders if she’s about to pass out. She keeps talking anyway, pushing on even as she loses her voice several times in her hurried, nonsensical explanations, the story not quite fitting together due to her mind jumping through all that’s happened out of order. She kind of feels like she’s about to pass out, in all honesty. Would Sasuke be mad at her if she passed out?

“Well, Pinky, that ‘freak’ was none other than Orochimaru—yes, _the_ Orochimaru.” Anko grins at the looks of recognition flickering across their faces, eyes widening with a manic sort of edge that Sakura _swears_ could be fear. Of him or for them, she’s not really sure. “Congratulations, kiddies! You’ve officially fended off an S-Class criminal. Don’t get too cocky, though. He probably wouldn’t have taken off if it weren’t for us.”

Orochimaru of the Sannin? The name alone gives Sakura a new, sudden rush of energy, the ability to put a name to the threat pushing Sakura to sit a little straighter, breathe a little faster, to _think a lot more clearly._ The three legendary shinobi known as the Sannin were a big deal, sure, especially to Konoha. There was an entire day dedicated to the three of them and their accomplishments in the Academy. The Sannin are who young genin aspired to become one day—though, realistically, that can really only be said for Tsunade and Jiraiya. Weirdly enough, Sakura had noticed that Orochimaru was often glossed over in lectures, acknowledged but not really praised for any amazing feats comparable to his teammates. Perhaps Orochimaru was in the same position as Sakura when it came to his teammates, then? The dead weight of his team, only a Sannin because of who his teammates were, not because of his own strength? Did that make him go rogue?

The knowledge that Orochimaru was now an S-Class missing-nin wasn’t exactly secret, but there was no real record of what had made him leave in the first place. There wasn’t even really a cover story. Maybe he’d been unable to feel like he was a contributing member to his squad, the odd man out, and he’d chosen to leave them behind.

But if that were the case… why come after Sasuke?

“Whatever Orochimaru did messed with Naruto's chakra…” Sasuke’s voice drags Sakura out of her musings and she glances up from her hands to look at his expression, his eyebrows furrowed and his face a mask of… anger? Fear? Concern? Sasuke’s emotions are usually so restrained and subtle that seeing them plain as day on his face is jarring, leaving Sakura fumbling to try and understand what he’s feeling. “It went crazy for a minute there—I had no idea he had that _much…”_

“Ah, that was probably because of Uzumaki’s… _unique_ chakra.” Does Sakura imagine the way Anko hesitated for a moment, almost as if she’d caught herself before saying something she shouldn’t have? Is she reading too much into the suddenly guarded expression on Anko’s face? “Don’t sweat it, kid, there’s four ANBU squads on Orochimaru’s tail as we speak—we’ll figure out what the hell he did as soon as they catch him.”

Sakura wonders at the way Karin’s eyes focus on Naruto’s face with renewed interest, something almost possessive curling unpleasantly in her stomach at the intensity of her stare. “Shouldn’t we take him to the hospital?” Sakura pipes up to brush off the unpleasantness of that feeling, “And… are we disqualified? Orochimaru had our target’s scroll, and there was no way we were getting that out of him.”

Two ANBU drop to the ground just as Sakura’s sentence trails off, their masks impassive but their body language speaking volumes; their muscles are tense, pulled taut into readied positions despite their faux cover of casual stances, every inch of their bodies a readied weapon and poised to execute whatever threat comes their way. These are the elite of the elite, Sakura realises. They’re the best of the best. So they’ll find Orochimaru, drag him back here, and make him fix whatever he did to Naruto.

Right?

 _“Out_ of—nope, nevermind. I don’t wanna know.” Anko’s mouth clicks shut with a decisive snap of her jaw, waving her hand as if she can wave away Sakura’s words and the implications of them. Turning without missing a single beat, Anko puts her hands on her hips and shifts into an air of superiority that momentarily stuns the three genin behind her. “I need you to report this to the Hokage, and tell him to hunt down Hatake. We need to call in the specialist for this case. Top priority. Got it?”

The two ANBU are gone as swiftly as they came, vanishing into the trees at a speed that Sakura longs to one day match, hopefully someday soon, and Anko remains silent for a long while. Sakura wonders at the suddenly somber silence, at the way Anko turns slightly to look over her shoulder, dark eyes focused on Naruto’s sleeping face. She looks _torn,_ conflicted on the deepest level, and Sakura can’t help but wonder just what is making Anko look at her blonde teammate with such a bittersweet fondness. Though they’d only known her for the duration of this challenge, Sakura had truly never thought Anko capable of such a depth of obvious sadness. Anko is a whirlwind of manic energy, a crazed force of nature, but there’s just _something_ in her face as she looks at Naruto that makes Sakura wonder if that’s just what Anko wants people to believe.

“Um… shouldn’t they go, too?” Karin prods after a moment, her voice hesitant, as if she’s afraid to break this wholly alien silence.

“I’ll handle the old man,” Anko replies easily, almost immediately, blinking rapidly back to reality before turning her head away from them. She crosses her arms over her chest, head held high, and clears her throat before loudly adding: “As official proctor for this round, I hereby grant Konohagakure’s Team Seven passage to head to the tower without a second scroll—if you can make it to the tower in one piece, all three of you can proceed to the next round. Got it?”

Then, like the ANBU before her, Anko vanishes in a hail of leaves on the wind.

The four of them sit in the clearing for some time, completely silent, all of them staring into the high branches of the trees around them as if waiting for the other shoe to drop. Sakura can feel Sasuke practically _radiating_ impatience, his face set into a scowl that cuts deep lines into his face, his hand hovering over his weapons holster. The boy’s gonna die from stress before he’s thirty at this rate.

“I should… get back to my team.” Karin is the first to break the silence in Anko’s wake, standing up and rubbing her arm almost sheepishly. Bright crimson eyes are looking anywhere but at Sakura, her cheeks still tinged pink, and Sakura wonders if maybe Karin doesn’t see just how brave she’d been earlier. Is she always so shy? With the way she’d saved their lives earlier, the redhead would be totally entitled to be gloating about how much they owe her right now, not looking like she’s somehow inconvenienced them. Nervously, Karin pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose and turns on her heel, not even waving over her shoulder as she starts jogging back the way she’d come.

“Thank you!” Sakura calls after her, unable to let the girl who’d saved her life walk away without hearing her gratitude.

Karin’s nearly through the underbrush before she turns, face nearly as red as her hair, and points at Team Seven with fire in her eyes and a proclamation blazing through the air: “If he still needs help… tomorrow! I’ll heal him tomorrow!”

Sakura smiles and nods, another _silent_ thank you in her eyes, and her heart feels warm when Karin smiles back.

* * *

It takes the two of them a few hours to find a reasonable alcove to drag Naruto into, each of them taking turns with the blonde on their backs while the other takes point with a kunai in hand. Eventually, they find a nice collection of trees whose roots are upended enough to allow them to lie down beneath the tree and be hidden from view, and it’s where they decide to set up camp for the night.

Sakura takes first guard, laying down a quick _Magen: Kokoni Arazu no Jutsu_ around the area to better hide them from sight. It’s a basic genjutsu, something that any skilled shinobi will probably see through if they’re really looking, but anything is better than nothing right now. Hopefully, between this and the traps Sasuke took to planting around the perimeter, they’ll be safe for the night. Meanwhile, Sasuke spends the first three hours of Sakura’s evening watch trying to cool Naruto down with a rag and water from one of their canteens, mumbling about how his teammates are reckless fools.

The hours pass by with no real problems in sight: no one comes snooping around looking for them, no wicked monster in a human’s skin comes crawling from the darkness after Sasuke, and Naruto doesn’t explode into a flaming mass of hate again, either. They trade shifts as in the black of night, wordlessly moving around one another so Sakura can sit at Naruto’s side and Sasuke can take watch, and still nothing happens. It’s smooth sailing. It’s going so well, in fact, that Sakura has time to even let her mind wander as she finishes wiping down Naruto’s brow and Sasuke remains silent, back taut with stress and brilliant red eyes scanning the darkness of the forest around them.

The night is going so well that Sakura can berate herself in silence.

She’d broken down again, when her team had needed her most. All that talk about getting better, all those times she’d sworn to Ginta—the Yamanaka specialist assigned to her personal mental health—that she’d genuinely felt like she was healing, all her bragging about the progress they’d made and how Wave hardly affected her lately… and yet at the first sign of killing intent in that clearing, Sakura had completely frozen at the worst possible moment. All that talking with her therapist, all her struggling, it all feels completely worthless now. She’s right back where she’d started. Would Ginta be disappointed in her for such a pathetic relapse after all his hard work? Guilt twists her stomach and Sakura bites down on her bottom lip hard enough to bleed, trembling fingers reaching up to pull at her hair, silent sobs wracking her chest.

She’d made herself such an easy target with her pride; the kunai in her hair, a boastful move on her part, had given Orochimaru an easy way to hold and control her. He’d used it as a hand-hold, had dragged her around by her hair, and she’d foolishly given him that just to try and prove that she was “dangerous.” What if he’d decided to simply pluck it from her hair and slit her throat? What if he’d just ended her life right then and there? What if he’d killed Naruto with the weapon she’d given him? Shaking hands all but rip the kunai from its place atop her head, twisted up in the wispy remains of her cute little bun she’d so been so vainly proud of, the roots of her hair protesting at the violent treatment.

Gritting her teeth, Sakura curls up tighter, pulling at her hair harder, almost defiantly, the memory of Orochimaru throwing her like a ragdoll playing on repeat in her mind. Her head feels heavy as she pulls at the first handful of hair, blindly slashing at it with the edge of the kunai in her hand. Uneven strands of pink litter her lap, falling to the dirt around her, but Sakura keeps pulling, tugging, stabbing, anything to get the memory off of her. She needs to forget. _Why won’t he stop pulling her hair?_

A feather-light touch stops her quaking hands, a gentle but firm grip on her wrist halting her moments and pulling her back from the edge. Sakura looks up into Sasuke’s eyes, dark and unreadable as ever, and all at once the dam breaks. Her chest heaves and she curls forward, inward, keening pitifully into the backs of his hands that are still firmly trapping her wrists even as she curls against them. Sasuke doesn’t say anything to comfort her as she cries, doesn’t even move, but he stays. He _stays,_ and that means so much to Sakura that she can’t even breathe in that moment.

She’s not sure how long she cries like that—it’s still dark out when she finally manages to sit up straight, eyelids heavy and her throat feeling particularly raw, but Sasuke is still there with her wrists in his hands and his eyes anywhere but on her. Swallowing thickly, Sakura looks down at his hands on her wrists and silently laments a time in which such a touch would have sent her heart racing; instead, right now all it does it make her feel guilty for clearly startling him, and she wonders if he would have reached out at all had she not been holding a blade. Did he think if he didn’t stop her that she would have hurt herself?

_(Would she have?)_

“Did you have to make such a mess?” His voice is her ear startles her enough that her cheeks burn, heart skipping a beat, and he uses her moment of surprise to deftly slide the kunai from her grip. Sakura blinks at him with wide eyes, confusion clear on her face, and with a shake of his head Sasuke settles down behind her, kunai in hand, gently maneuvering her to sit up straight and tall in front of him. “Sit still. Let me fix it.”

Months ago, if someone had told Sakura that Uchiha Sasuke would be fixing her hair, she would have _never_ believed them. She would have been over the moon, waxing poetic about how his eyes would be oh so tender in the night and how this would surely guarantee that they’d be together forever after sharing such an intimate moment. As it is, though, Sakura can’t really describe just how she’s feeling in this moment—she’s not sure what to make of Sasuke’s uncharacteristically gentle fingers combing through her hair, nor of the slow and deliberate motions of the kunai as he threads through the mess of her hair, but she knows she doesn’t hate it. It doesn’t make her heart flutter, but it doesn’t leave her unaffected, either.

Sakura passes the time wondering just how much of a number she’d done on her hair in the midst of… whatever that had been. Breakdown? Panic attack? Her therapist will probably have a lot to say about this at her next appointment… or maybe she’ll go in before that, as soon as they get a break from this exam. Ginta would probably appreciate her seeking him out for once. She wonders at how she must look overall right now, between her hair and the dark scars across her collarbone and the dried blood flaking off of her face and arms. She can see the edges of a claw mark from the corner of her eyes, lines of jagged and darkly scarred flesh serving as a violently stark contrast to her own pale skin, and she wonders if they’re going to always be that noticeable. She wonders if she should be allowed the vanity to worry that they are.

“I owe you an apology,” Sasuke’s voice startles her so badly that she’d compare it to receiving a rapid punch to the gut, surprise winding her as she stares wide-eyed into the darkness in front of them. _An apology?_ Uchiha Sasuke doesn’t do apologies. Sasuke isn’t above small gestures to try and smooth over tense situations and hurt feelings, but Sakura doesn’t think she’s ever heard an apology from him. _(The “inconsiderate bad boy” vibe was something girls found dreamy at their age! It’s part of his charm!)_ It’s deathly silent between the two of them for a long moment, nothing but the sound of hair grating against a sharp edge filling the air between them, and then finally Sasuke makes a sound that she can only describe as an aggravated _sigh._ “That day—on the bridge, you apologised to me like you were the worst person alive, like it was your fault that the Academy didn’t better prepare you for what’s out there. I _let_ you. That wasn’t… fair to you.”

What…?

“I’ve been hard on you and Naruto. I’ve treated you both poorly. I wasn’t… pleased about being placed on a team, at first. I felt like I was being held back.” Her hair is feeling particularly short in the back, but honestly Sakura can barely focus on it with the way her head is spinning. Sasuke pauses, shifts his fingers through a particularly difficult knot in her hair with such delicacy that it honestly shocks her more than his words, and then continues on like he isn’t casually giving her a mild heart attack in that same soft, whispered tone of his. “I called you a weak link and, instead of making sure you improved so you could protect yourself, I ignored you. I ignored you both. You or Naruto could have died today—you could have died and it would have been _my fault.”_

Sasuke finally pulls back from her, dropping the kunai into the dirt midst a pile of shed pastel pink, and sits back to admire his work. Neither of them speak for several moments, and then she feels the length of Sasuke’s spine press against her own, his eyes turned out toward the treeline as they sit back-to-back.

“We’re a team,” his voice is so quiet that Sakura almost believes she’s imagining it, “and I’m sorry that I didn’t act like it. I won’t fail you again… _either_ of you.”

Slowly, as if she’s terrified he’ll run at the first sign of trouble, Sakura turns to look at his profile from the corner of wide, teary eyes. His face is turned away from her, staring resolutely ahead to continue the farce that has been his watch, and Sakura can’t stifle a small smile from twisting her lips as she reaches up to slide her fingers through her newly cut hair.

Sasuke refuses to look at her as she explores the length of it, but his chin does shift minutely toward her as she moves—he’s left it long in the front, untouched, but shorn it so close in the back that even his hair is probably longer now. It’s shorter than she would have ever wanted to cut her own hair, but Sakura’s heart feels warm with gratitude all the same.

“I love it,” she tells him sincerely. _“Thank you.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 5/18/19: I’m alive! I swear I’m alive!
> 
> Thank you SO MUCH to the people who reached out to make sure I was okay after missing literal months worth of my update schedule. I’m okay! I just had a lot of health emergencies of both the medical and mental variety, and as such for a while I couldn’t focus on writing much of anything. Honestly, I’m sad this took so long to get to you guys—the chapter was (mostly) done for a while, I just had to polish it off and give it to my beta, which she hurried back to me afterward, I just kind of struggled to get it over the finish line.
> 
> I don’t know if I’ll be able to stick to my bi-weekly schedule again for a while, mostly because I usually had a chapter buffer in place but because of everything that happened, I don’t have that now. I’ll try to stick to it as best as possible, but don’t hate me if I miss a week or two, please!
> 
> Anyway, I’ve missed you all so much! I love all of my reviewers and a huge thank you to new readers and old alike going through and leaving detailed commentary on every single chapter to let me know your thoughts! You guys are the best!
> 
> See you next time!


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